Glad nobody's photographing me trying to row a boat!
I'm writing this Saturday, July 7, 3 pm. Our power just came back on, having been off for eight days. Today it's 100 degrees in the shade and we have had all manner of associated minor catastrophes going along with having no electricity. First there was the destruction of the Garden Pod, then there was a chest freezer leaking into and ruining our music room carpet, and this morning we discovered that the water heater had been in cahoots with the chest freezer because there's a small lake beneath it (and throughout the rest of the basement as well). We've done nothing since we got home but deal with one nasty stinky festering expensive problem after another, then sprawl exhausted but sleepless on piping-hot sheets until it's time to get up and start back to work.
This morning we took another count and we've lost probably a dozen large trees, some of which we'll have to deal with, some of which will rot where they lie. Seems like the wind picked off all the nice ones: a huge oak, our silver maple, our fruiting mulberry, our best wild cherry (haven for waxwings), a big black walnut, some great big Virginia pines.
June was pretty cool but I haven't much liked July so far. Still there are people much worse off than we thanks to this huge and horrible storm, and what we've lost are things and trees and appliances and about 8.2 gallons of sweat and money, not lives. Here's to the Washington Electric Coop crews who slaved around the clock in brutal heat to restore power; here's to our friends Dave and Marcy and Steve and Carol and Caroline and Keith who brought us a generator and a million extension cords and the last two of whom are even now replacing our water heater. My brains are like hot cornmeal mush now so I'll sign off with grateful thanks to good friends.
And thanks to you, dear readers, for your support in dark times. I'll keep the natural history stuff coming.