Saturday, September 13, 2014

I caught some fish and then didn't die of heat stroke.

Dudes, can I tell you something?

I'm over summer.

Yeah. It's happened. I finally OVER-summered after years of being all "OH I LOVE SUMMER THE MOST! Fall sucks! Don't say Fall! It's the new F word!".

And now it's been summer for, like, three years and all I want in the fucking world is some rain and then some snow and to wear my down booties in the house without Bubba being all, "Really, dude? It's 90 degrees."

I know, my love. I FUCKING KNOW.

Ugh.

He hates it, too. It's not right for me to get all sweary at him about it, especially since we're both pretty sure I brought this on us myself.

Perhaps the entire state has me to blame for the drought and this bloody forever-taking hot ass muther fucking summer.

Perhaps.

Either way, I'm over it. And in a very visible LOOK AT ME MOTHER NATURE - I'M COMPLYING act, I'm setting out to bring about fall.

Like, starting today.

I went out to that yard and I gave everything its fall pruning. And I went out to the garden and took down the tomatoes and peppers. And if this state had adequate water resources to do so, I'd wash my car, but we do not so I'm only fantasizing about it while my beloved Duchess is buried under a heap of dust and bird doo.

Also, I'll probably bake some cookies. And if that doesn't turn on some fall weather, I'll start a knitting project, plant some bulbs, make chili in the crockpot and, like carve a fucking pumpkin or something.

What else is fall-like that I can do to get some NOT-SUMMER to happen, people?

It's gross out here in California, is what I'm saying. This state is dry as a popcorn fart and I have stopped enjoying it.

A week ago though, I enjoyed the piss out of it.

Can't catch the biggest cutthroat of one's life in winter, friends. That's something.
Or the biggest wild rainbow trout of one's life either.

It was approximately 100 degrees in this tent and that beer wasn't nearly large enough.

Riding this bike down the mountain in Mammoth was like descending into hell itself. But with extra sweating. 
Why, hello Eastern Sierras. I haven't seen you in five whole minutes.

So, yeah, it's hot here.

The yard work today was nearly my final act.

I had to lie down afterward is how bad it was. And then I had to have cocktails. You know, to cool off.

So, fall soon, then?

3 comments:

  1. While I love that we don't have to shovel a metric fuckton of snow out here in California, I am not thrilled with it being fucking 85°F and no air conditioning! Also, back home in Wisconsin, it barely made it to 50°F today. What the crap?! When we moved out here, we were told that it would get rainy and shitty and cold (or, rather, the Bay Area definition of cold) from November through at least January...we've been here for two years and have yet to experience any of it. ::sigh:: I mean, yeah, it rains on once in a gazillion years but, really, not even close to what we're expecting.

    Perhaps we're to blame for the drought.

    I could go for a good thunderstorm...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I blame you.

      KIDDING!

      I don't know who I blame, but the responsible party will be flogged endlessly upon discovery. Or I'll just bitch and moan and finger cross until the rain returns.

      I, too, could go for a good thunderstorm. As long as it's not happening as I'm hiking through it, THANKYOUVERYMUCH John Muir Trail trip. Hmpf.

      Delete
  2. We had a few years of awful super drought a while ago.

    I saved up and irrigated my poor thirsty pastures.

    The next day the drought broke.

    ...

    You already put in drip lines to your various yard vegetation, though, didn't you? It may take something more drastic than installing irrigation to single-handedly break your heat/drought.

    ReplyDelete

[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.

Cheers.