This little orphan, and three horses, showed up here a couple of days ago. They had been evacuated from the Cedar fire, in the mountains to the northeast.
It was pretty tough on the little guy, coming from cool mountains to HOT Bakersfield. In fact, he didn’t stay long, but was evacuated for a second time — to a local feed store where he could be nice and cool inside.
Here’s what the fire looked like yesterday.
Here’s what it looked like at sunset; not the fire directly, but the smoke in our air.
I wish that whoever started these things, from carelessness or malice, had to live with all of the destruction they cause. You can bet that they go back to their nice safe houses — some of them to enjoy watching their work on the news. This fire is about 15,000 acres now, but it’s nothing to the Blue Cut fire down south, or the Erskine fire earlier this summer.
It’s been a long, hot summer.
I may not be posting as much as I used to, but there are times that I just have to. Yesterday, for example, when grandson Andrew and great-grandson Weston rode up on Kitty, I was sure I would get a great picture.
Better try it from the other side; the light’s better. Look this way, Weston!
Oh, well. Try again. Look this way, Kitty!
Well, this time I got a good one.
Darn. Weston blinked. Oh, well; maybe next time!
All’s well here; Billy passed his last check up with flying colors. We’re about to enter another heat wave, but the end is in sight now. Many kids are going back to school, and the days are perceptibly shorter. Still, the saying is that fall won’t be here until after the county fair, and that’s almost always been true. Then I’ll get out and about more, and I hope I’ll do more blogging.
I woke up yesterday morning to a beautiful mother-of-pearl sunrise. Naturally, I got out with my camera . . .
A lot of places in the US — and even California — this wouldn’t be a Big Event. In Bakersfield, though, we are used to endless unchanging skies throughout the summer months, and beyond. I’ve seen afghans in which a strip a day is added, in the color of the sky for that day. They are beautiful, in many shades of blue, peach, gray, gold, and pink. Here, you would have pretty much a solid grayish blue blanket. There’s not much variety in our summer skies, except for a sullen orange night and morning during fire season. It’s been fire after fire this summer, and it’s not over yet.
Still, perhaps this short-lived change is a sign of times to come. Eventually. Well, there are back-to-school ads all over the place. That’s a sure sign that fall is coming, isn’t it? And fall can be lovely here — and great riding weather!
A group of the ladies got together and had a lovely ride at the beach a couple of days ago. It was a typical Pismo day . . . cool and a bit misty.
It looks like everybody had a wonderful time, even the horses. It was 109 here. Sigh.
Thanks to friend and boarder Jennifer for these pics . . .
Today it’s supposed to be 111 here. I’m not sure whether going to the beach makes it better or not . . . you have to come back!
I haven’t been blogging much, because it’s just too hot. Too hot to be outside, too hot to do much of anything — though the really dedicated riders are managing. They come very early, though. They have to; it was in the nineties by ten o’clock. And the predictions are for temperatures to get hotter yet — up to 111.
So I’ll do what I often do in situations like this — post an old picture that makes me feel cooler. Here’s one from January 2013, when a hard freeze broke some water lines and gave us a crystal landscape.
Yes, that makes me feel a little cooler. Maybe I’ll go stick my head in the freezer for a while . . .
I woke up yesterday morning to find a hot dog by my pillow. I blinked at it for a few moments; yes, it was a hot dog. Yes, it was sitting on my bed. But how did it get there?
After a few moments, I remembered that earlier Peaches had come in and jumped on the bed, whining. She jumped right off again and left, but I realized she only whines that way when she’s bringing me a Present. No doubt she was disappointed that I hadn’t waked up enough to accept her offering, which some early riser must have given her.
Eventually I staggered out to the living room, where Billy was sleeping peacefully in his recliner. (He’s had to sleep there since he started having back trouble.) Holding the abandoned wiener delicately by one end, I deposited it in the garbage. Peaches no doubt thought it was a perfectly good snack. It only had a little toothmark in one end. Thank goodness it was a naked hot dog; no mustard, ketchup, relish, or bun. Otherwise, things would have been a lot messier.
Life is always interesting when you have a generous Golden Retriever.
Here she is having a good after-swim shake during a ride a few days ago, courtesy of Marion.
As anyone who has ever bathed her can tell you, she is a very good shaker. And gift-giver.
I’m almost afraid to think what I’ll find by my pillow next.
We’re in another heat wave, so I have been sticking close to home. Except for a few trips to the pharmacy or the grocery store, I haven’t ventured out — and there’s not much to photograph at those places.
This morning, I at least went out and took some pictures of my moss rose, or portulaca, plant. It has been blooming quietly away on a bench. This unassuming little plant just loves heat and dryness, so it’s a great summer bloomer. The flowers aren’t very big, but they are sure bright; and they are different every day. Today, for instance . . .
It’s hard to believe that it’s a close relative of the purslane that grows on the fringes of our . . . er, lawn.
Purslane is either a noxious weed or a delicious edible, according to your point of view. Its cousin portulaca, though, is the beauty of the family.
I had to wade through countless little hoppity toads to get the last picture. It’s hard to get across the yard without stepping on them, though I’ve managed it so far. My progress across the lawn must look funny, though, as a lot of it involves standing on one foot with the other one waving in the air, looking fora safe place to land. As soon as I turn on a sprinkler, every toad in the area makes a beeline for the water.
The hummingbirds, too, love the sprinkler. I spent some time trying to get a picture of one zizzing back and forth through the spray, but never did manage it. Maybe tomorrow . . .
If not tomorrow, sooner or later, it’ll be cool enough to get out and ride!