The Lady of the Hollow kindly built the first fire of fall in the wood stove this evening.
Half an hour ago, I was driving along the paved county road and saw my annual tarantula. Seemingly since the dawn of time, I have seen exactly one tarantula per year crossing Rocky Top Road. It is a tradition that I enjoy and uphold.
Obviously, me saying “since the dawn of time” is hyperbolic, an exaggeration to make a point, but the first tarantula I ever saw on a then unpaved Rocky Top Road was during the fall of 1982. I was a passenger in Jack McCall’s Ford pickup and he didn’t even slow down so I didn’t get a good look at it. I do remember what Grandpa said though. He said he didn’t mind tarantulas, but he didn’t like the big jumping spiders. He said one once jumped onto the neck of his horse and he was thrown. I was with Grandpa that evening to assist him catching guineas on Frank Wolfinbarger’s farm. I believe I wrote a fictionalized account of this in Murder in the Ozarks. Hard to remember sometimes.
This was the view from the ridge road a few minutes ago looking over the Kings River to Berryville, Arkansas beyond. The photo is courtesy of the neighborhood maintenance man who works nights.
Tasked with a mission, the yellow dog and I loaded up and headed east on US 62. We had been given a bundle of old flags to be destroyed, so our destination was the American Legion in Green Forest, Arkansas.
The American Legion (Jordan Davis) Post #162 is on Main Street.
They have a receptacle out front for disposing of old American flags. They handle and destroy the flags following proper protocols.
Our task complete, we had the luxury to admire the sky.
Wowzer! Have you ever seen a sky with such a beautiful blue?
You know it’s a hot one when Shrek engages in mud baths.
Always on the job, our fat yellow detective caught this young lady at the bird feeder late last night.
I never could take the heat well and every year is more difficult. I’ve worked outside today, but keep retreating into the air conditioning. The temperature at the moment is 88F (31C) and just humid enough to hamper my breathing. Meanwhile, if I climbed the highest ridge and looked eastward across the seas to Wemyss, Scotland, I would see that the temperature is a mere 48F (9C). That’s mowing weather to me, though I’d have to rig up the lights on the tractor because it’s already dark there, the sun having set at 955pm.
The Lady of the Hollow mentioned that the clothes dryer was taking twice as long to dry as normal. Never one to dawdle, the fat yellow dog was on the case. Turns out the exterior dryer exhaust vent was packed full of twigs. The conglomeration was carefully extracted and sent down to the boys at the lab.
Detailed analysis was performed and the discovery of pretty little eggs inside led Shrek to suspect a bird was involved.