Looking out my Backdoor: Some like it hot; some like it not

My back yard is full of baby doves foraging. Worms? Could be any number of bugs. They have a huge, juicy selection. All sizes, all colors.

Last night we had a Bing-Bang-Boom-Jingle-Jangle-Whoop of a storm, precursor to rains tonight, all courtesy of Hurricane Enrique. I had to get up in the night and put rugs in front of the door and towels on the window sills to soak up the water. Did I tell you my house is anything but tight?

When I went out to survey my kingdom I found a lot of tree debris, leaves and twiddly stuff, but no major damage.

After I hung the sopping towels to dry on the line, I walked the lane and oh, my, a different picture outside my wall. A lot of broken branches. So Leo, Josue, his daughter Stephany and I filled several wheel barrows with downed deadfall.

On the way back to the house, Josue with his broken foot and me with my cane, had a race to the finish line. Stephany became the judge and drew the line in the gravel. I won by a foot and a cane tip. He lost by a toe. It was a classic example of “The Tortoise and The Tortoise.” With laughter.

An hour later, edging toward afternoon, I stood on my patio and shook my fist at the sky. “Not yet,” I yelled. “The towels aren’t dry.” The sky shrugged.

Throughout June we had rain at least once during every 24 hours except for two days. Maybe three, since one day might have gone 26 or 27. I didn’t track that closely. Straight down rain, even with the storm effects. I love straight down rain. No waterfalls cascading off my casa windows.

Gray days later: This morning with great trepidation I turned on the hot water in my shower. After five sun-less days, I took a deep breath and geared up for a quick hop in and out of lukewarm water. My water heater consists of solar pipes on the roof. Amazingly, we’d had enough glare, not sunshine, glare, yesterday to keep my water boiling hot.

My shower is the only thing hot. Temperatures have been steady in the 60s—lower in the mornings, higher in the afternoons.

My friend Cheryl, who lives on the Oregon coast north of Tillamook, wrote me about Portland topping out at 116 F yesterday. She and her husband just built a retirement home and mere days ago, decided to install a heat pump. It’s not as hot on the coast, but, still …

Cheryl went on to say, “I feel a bit spoiled, especially when I think of you, Sondra, not having air conditioning or heating in your casita.” I’ll write back that I’m happy she is feeling spoiled. I’m spoiled in other ways.

My son Ben, along with a friend, escaped Seattle, where the streets and highways are broiling and buckling. Sunday night they flew out of the country to Belize.

Ben wrote, “Belize is a country of contradictions, hot and cold, democratic and socialist, poor and rich, third world and civilized. We had baked breadfruit for dinner, dipped in cilantro hummus. Ever had it? It’s crazy. It’s a fruit but it tastes and has the consistency of fresh bread. Wacky. What a wonderful world we live in.”

My daughter, when living in Japan, had a close friend from Belize. Her family lived in primitive conditions yet had a factory that bottled habanero salsa, among other spicy treats. Dee Dee and I are having severe trip envy. How we would love to be there sharing adventures with Ben.

I said to Leo when he came to work in my yard, “Maybe I could get a ticket and fly out tomorrow.” He wisely responded, “Maybe Ben doesn’t want to see his Mama this week.”

Meanwhile cloudy days reign. Enrique, now downgraded to a tropical storm, is blustering its way into the Pacific, having rearranged two-thirds of the entire Mexican coast. The sun will shine again. Rains will pour down. After all, this is the rainy season and when one hails from Montana, every rain is good rain.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].