Missing Summer already…

Well, the a/c is officially OFF at our house, we haven’t used it for at least a week. While September can produce 100 degrees, it’s not the same 100 degrees you get in August – for one thing, it doesn’t last as long.

A month ago, I was busting it out the door at 5 am, trying to catch a glimpse of the Giant, now he dances across my yard until almost 6:30, dogs yapping at his heels.

There’s still a hint of wet smoke in the air, but it’s not suffocating like before.

My husband and I are in a panic to get out of Chico by next Spring. Hah – get out of Chico! Yeah, we still have to buy groceries and gas, and we’ll still have to have our PG&E hook-up, but I’ll steal a line from Sugar Bowl ski resort – “It’s different up here.”

For one thing, there’s no freeway two blocks away, no constant screech of fire trucks following ambulances – in Chico, the constant din only lets up long enough, at some point in the wee morning, to make a person realize just how noisy the town is the rest of the day.

You can only really “hear” two things in Chico – the train, and only in the morning, and the race track, usually only on Friday or Saturday night. Oh yeah, two other things – a few times a year, you can hear the fireworks displays from the Chico Heat games or the racetrack. The rest of the time, it’s just a blur of noise.

Up in the hills you can hear one car crawling up out of the canyon at 9am, or 3pm, no matter. In the wee hours, you can hear the wind roaring up out of the canyon. Or you can hear a fox calling, or an owl. You can hear a neighbor a half mile away open their car  door and start their engine.

Sometimes voices drift over – a good sound, not intrusive.  We know when our neighbor Jerry comes out his front door almost every morning because his horse whinnies.

He says he can hear me tearing it up in our yard with the dogs – he put his hands together imitating my “clap clap clap”. I always clap to get them excited.

I try to use my campground voice here, I talk kind of loud usually. I like to whoop and holler and sing songs like “Honey let me be your salty dog!” like June Carter Cash. But here I try to keep my jubilance to myself.

Yesterday we switched to flannel sheets and got the comforter out. It’s already 10 degrees cooler up here, with highs in the 70’s. It’s 60 in the shack right now, I had to dig out my fleece shirt.

Oh sheesh, I think I’m already missing Summer.

 

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2 thoughts on “Missing Summer already…

  1. Must be nice not to have neighbors right in your lap like city slickers do. But I guess you got Schwabbie as a neighbor up there somewhere.

    What can you grow up there? Will you have a garden?

    • thanks for coming over Bob!

      Actually, we do have neighbors. Luckily we are sandwiched between two old curmudgeons who seem to know what they’re doing, been here a while. There are about 7 properties around us, 4 have been inhabited by the same people for a long time, and two have been abandoned for about 10 years, and another changes hands quite regularly. A new family with small children just moved in – they will either give up because of the constant driving back and forth or they will get up early one morning and see a 250 pound bear squatting in their side yard.

      I’m just guessing on the size of the bear – I got up close and personal with a couple of bears, one only weighed about 150 pounds, the other was reported to be about 300. From the size of those turds, I’m going to guess, 250 pounds.

      You know, a lot of people grow marijuana up here – our former neighbor, an old guy, had his pot patch right next to his table corn. I was shocked how nice his corn was. The fruit trees he planted are still doing well, but new neighbor reports Bear ate all the peaches, and is now working his way through the apples.

      The dirt here is poor for a truck garden, old neighbor brought in dirt. I was in the mountain town of Downieville a few years ago, and saw people there growing tomatoes in those grow bags they use for marijuana. I might try those, they are starting to pop up at the home improvement stores.

      In Downieville, the bears own the town at night. They eat everybody’s plums and cherries and pears and then crap all over the street. Lions and tigers and PLOPS! OH MY!

      Alright, time to head ’em up and move ’em out! A log truck spilled some chips in the road and we brought a couple of empty rubbermaid garbage cans to get them for my flower garden back in Chico.

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