Sunday, June 26, 2005, 22:53
Wimping Out
It all started Saturday evening when we took our dogs for a short one-mile walk round trip. I wanted our Shetland Sheepdog, Pixie, to get out for some exercise, and then we were planning to let our Springer Spaniel Charlie, come with us when we rode our bikes to the marsh a mile away after the sun had set to watch the fireflies. A one-mile walk would be just enough to get Charlie limbered up and ready for a run.
Last year, the marsh had thousands of fireflies, and we wanted to see if there are that many this year. Plus, it's good for Charlie to get out and run. If he doesn't burn off some of his excess energy during the day, he develops an "I don't have to listen to the likes of you" attitude and won't come when we call him.
The temperature during the day wasn't all that hot, mid-80s, but during the afternoon, the dewpoint started rising so that by evening, the dewpoint was in the 60s or low 70s, making it feel hot and sticky and humid outside. In the afternoon, I had turned on the air conditioners (we have two small window units) to take some of the humidity out of the air.
While we were walking Saturday evening, I felt as if I were trying to make my way through waist-deep water. That's what I feel like when the humidity is high -- as if I am walking through something that is dragging at my legs. Then the sweat started trickling down the middle of my back.
When we returned to the house to put Pixie inside, the difference between outside and inside was startling.
"Feels wonderful in here," Randy said.
"Yes, it does," I said.
I took the leash off Pixie and then wiped the sweat off my forehead.
"Well, I suppose if we're going to ride the bikes down to the marsh," I said, "we'd better get going."
I looked at Randy and he looked at me. Sweat was still trickling down my back.
"Kind of sticky to ride bikes," Randy said.
"Yes," I said. "It is."
"Couldn't we just put Charlie in the truck and *drive* down to the marsh?" Randy said. "Charlie can still run around while we're watching the fireflies."
"Well," I said, "okay."
Charlie, of course, was *thrilled* to be riding in the pickup truck with us.
"I can't believe this," I said, as we headed out the driveway. "I'm being awfully wimpy to ride in the truck instead of riding my bike."
Randy rolled down his window a little more. "Think of Charlie," he said. "You wouldn't want Charlie to get overheated trying to keep up with the bikes, would you?"
Well, of course I wouldn't want Charlie to get sick. I was being wimpy, but there were other members of the family to consider, weren't there.
"No, you're right, I wouldn't want Charlie to get sick," I said.
When we reached the marsh, we let Charlie out. He happily trotted up and down the shoulder of the road, sniffing and snuffling, while we walked along and watched the fireflies.
The marsh, we immediately noticed, was full of the "long-light" fireflies. We seem to have two basic kinds of fireflies around here. Those that go "blink-blink-blink-blink" and those that go "bliiiiiiiiiiink-bliiiiiiiiiiink-bliiiiiiiiiiink."
"Look at all of them," Randy said. "They look like they're floating."
"Yeah," I said, "there's a few Twinklers down here. But most of them are the long ones."
"We've got to think of a better name than 'long ones,'" Randy said. "How about. . .Floaters."
"Sounds good to me," I said. "Now we've got Twinklers and Floaters."
In the meantime, we could hear the snap, crackle, pop, boom and fizz of firecrackers somewhere in the distance. Except that "firecrackers" didn't seem like quite the right term -- amateur fireworks was probably closer to describing what we were hearing.
We watched the fireflies a while longer, then we put Charlie back in the truck.
"Let's go see where that's coming from," Randy said.
We drove "around the block" so to speak, and when we were almost ready to turn on the road that would take us back home, we saw the fireworks.
"I know the perfect place to watch them," Randy said, as he turned into the church parking lot.
He turned off the engine, turned off the lights, and then, there in the sky in front of us, were bursts and sparkles and showers of fireworks -- red, green, white and yellow.
"I didn't think that kind of thing was legal in Wisconsin," Randy said after a while.
"I didn't think so, either," I said, "although maybe something has changed recently."
In a few minutes the fireworks were over, and we headed for home.
All in all, it was quite a Saturday evening: Charlie got to ride in the truck, which, for him, is just as much fun as running with the bikes, and we got to watch both fireflies and fireworks.
But you know what the best part was? None of us had to get sweaty and out-of-breath! (I'm a wimp, I know. But at least I wasn't a hot, sweaty, sticky, out-of-breath wimp by the time we came home. . .)
LeAnn R. Ralph
Friday, June 24, 2005, 19:57
Summer!
Tuesday was the first, real, official day of summer! At long last, summer has arrived. And oh, boy, has it arrived.
It was nearly 90 degrees on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday the temperature went up to 96 degrees with a dewpoint in the 60s. It was so hot outside I got a little sick to my stomach just walking to the mailbox. Thank goodness I didn't have to bale hay on Thursday.
Thursday evening, I figured we could wait until after dark to take the dogs for a walk because by then, I was hoping it would be cooler outside.
"Hah!" Randy said when I told him about my plan. "It will still probably be 80 degrees by 10 o'clock tonight."
I am happy to report that for once, my husband was wrong. It was *not* 80 degrees at 10 o'clock. It was 84 degrees.
At any rate, after dark, we set out for a walk with the dogs. The air felt so thick with heat and humidity that it was like walking with a wet, warm wool blanket wrapped around my shoulders. The fireflies didn't seem to mind, though. Everywhere we looked, the green-white light of the fireflies resembled stars hovering above the grass.
"Quite a light show, isn't it," Randy said.
The truth of the matter is, whether it was hot after dark or not, I would still want to wait until after dark to go for a walk just so I could see the fireflies. Like everything else they are fleeting -- here for a few weeks, and then they are gone until next year.
Today the weather is cooler. Only 85 degrees. Not that I can really tell too much difference, though. When I was down in the barn this morning to feed my horse, sweat was running in my eyes as I brushed him off so I could put some fly spray on. The horse was sweating, too. And all he was doing was standing in the barn, getting brushed.
My dad used to say that sweating is good for a person because it sweats out "what ails you."
And right about now, I'm hoping he was right!
LeAnn R. Ralph