Her hair was wet because she’d just run through the sprinkler. At night she’s back to sleeping in the tent in the backyard to escape the heat in our second floor bedroom. There are forest fires burning north and south of us. Lowes and Home Depot have sold out of fans. Downtown, men stand on street corners prophesying The End of Times.
Tourists are puzzled. They step off the buses, some wearing coats — coats mind you! — and wonder why us locals appear so Woeful. “It’s summer,” they shrug, “supposed to be warm.” They don’t understand. What they want is tax-free Moose Poop jewelry. Their names appear on cards dangling from lanyards slung around their necks. This is so the tour guide can spot them more easily when it’s time to hurry them back onto the bus. And for the shop-owners, too:
“Evelyn is it, from Indiana?…yes Evelyn, I can assure you, all our turds come from 100%, purely grass-fed Moose — right here in Alaska!”
Ka-ching.
I take it all in while eating a polish sausage topped with grilled onions, seated on the rim of a concrete planter outside the Public Lands Information building. Just watchin’ ’em go by.
I never tire of seeing the tourists. To live and work in a place so many people can’t wait to experience, some for the first time — priceless.
Low 80s the past couple days. Forecast is for it to continue the next two, then cool down into the mid 70s as the month draws to a close. I just now kissed Happy Wife goodnight before she headed off to her cocoon of coolness in a swale of grass in the backyard. By the time it’s cool enough for her to return to the bedroom, sleeping together will seem new again. Some things are worth the wait.