August in Austin, Nevada… Waiting on Queries, Minding the Library, and Marveling at Nature.
Much of the country (and the entire Northern Hemisphere) is hot. It’s August, a time we refer to as “the dog days of summer.” -Days so hot that even the friskiest of canines refuse to venture out in the blazing sun, barely raising themselves for any reason. A slamming screen door, tri-tips on the grill, Junior home from summer camp . . . all excruciatingly exciting otherwise, barely elicit a thump of the tail during the grip of a heat wave.
Dog Days have always been about dogs, right?
I guess not! I was surprised when I looked up the origin of the phrase. According to Dictionary.com,
“The dog days, in the most technical sense, refer to the one- to two-month interval in which a particularly bright star rises and sets with the sun, shining during the daylight hours and staying hidden at night. This star is known by three names: Sirius, the Dog Star, and Alpha Canis Majoris. Apart from being the most prominent star in the constellation Canis Major (Latin for “Greater Dog”), this heavenly body is responsible for the origin of the expression dog days, a phrase that has endured through millennia.”
Now I need to find that star!
Dog Star or not, August is hot. We head higher up in the hills to cool off. I wrap ice cubes up in my scarf and wrap it around my neck. We play with the hose…
When I’m in the library, I keep the air conditioner set at 65 beautiful bone-chilling degrees Fahrenheit. I check my email compulsively, waiting on agent query replies for my manuscript, and one in particular. I had a fantastic literary agent contact me and request a full reading of said manuscript back at the end of June. I am so honored she asked! In the meantime, I’m getting more reading done (loved I Cheerfully Refuse by Leif Enger), and have had some great getaway weekends. Soon I will be back in Lake Arrowhead for a few days. So much to be grateful for!
And then there are the cats. Somehow, perhaps because we no longer have a dog, all manner of cats, along with their little kittens, and a small number of mule deer, have made our yard, our driveway, and our carport, if not their full time home, at least part of their daily rounds. A few of the kittens now come in through the cat door to look around the house, lounge on the sofa, or eat out of the resident cats’ (Jack, London, and Annabelle Lee) bowls. The mule deer, thankfully, cannot fit through the kitty door, but they do come into the carport at times, which unnerves the visiting cats, their kittens, and our own cats. We even had a near catastrophe last week when a deer wandered in, not noticing Mr. P was in there– and then spooked when he saw him and bolted, running over poor London, our sweet gray long-haired cat. London took a solid hit and was knocked senseless for a time. It was horrifying! Thankfully, he suffered no permanent damage and was back to himself the next day.
London
Two of the four baby kittens who showed up early in the summer got sick. Mom eventually left them with us, and we’ve done our best to nurse them back to health. Happily, they are doing much better, but of course, now we are thoroughly hooked.
Gremlin, the tiniest and most ill of the babies, now thankfully, on the mend.
Where will it all end?
The dog days of summer have gone to the cats!
LakeArrowheadLadyWriter 