Dog Days

I was curious about the term "dog days", so I looked it up. It's from the time of the Roman Empire, and was somewhere around the period of July 3 to August 11, which are the generally the hottest days of the year. That's when the star Sirius in the constellation Canis Major (big dog) would appear near sunrise. That was true back then, but due to the wobble of the Earth (precession) Sirius rises later in the year. This wobble, which is a 26,000 year cycle changes the time constellations rise, the stars that can be considered the north star, and pretty well destroys the wizardry of astrology. That, and destroys my original conception of how the dog days of summer were when dogs did as little as possible, laid under the porch, and waited for the cool of the evening to ease the brutal heat.

Saga of the Bridges

 In my early years, we had a few mechanical bridges that crossed local waterways with commercial traffic. Two were draw bridges, and four were swing bridges. They served their purpose, and were marvels for their time, but being mechanical, they had problems. 

One drawbridge, when it was raised for what would be the last time, was left in that position. Another drawbridge, had an electrical fire in the raised position, which left it in that position until demolition. Both left some important areas without access, except through long trips that would take over an hour. The solution was temporary ferry service, but the ferries could only handle pedestrians. Those that were affected left cars on either one, or both sides, for carpooling. Inconvenient is a mild term to describe the situation. 

The swing bridges were less of a problem, but cantankerous machines. Problems would arise, parts might not be available for the old bridges, and the costs to operate prohibitive. The solution for two of the bridges was replacement with spans higher than any boat traffic. The solutions have been there for years, and those affected never affected by mechanical problems since. 

Two of the swing bridges remain. Both have had expensive repairs, are still cantankerous, and loved by those historically minded folks that wouldn't be so anal about the bridges if they had to pay for the costs associated to keep them in service. How long this lasts is to be seen, but as time goes by, and those without any emotional ties to the bridges are gone, they'll be replaced, and the extra costs for keeping the old bridges absorbed by the taxpayers that probably don't know they even exist. 

Hot Days

We've hovered officially around 100 degrees the last few days, but my thermometer not sanctioned by the weather wizards said we surpassed that mark when theirs said it was 98. Right, or wrong, the few degrees difference doesn't mean anything. It's supposed to be the same today, and tomorrow, but a front is supposed to lower the temperature a few degrees and lower the humidity. That will be good. Currently, with the high humidity, it's 81 degrees outside, and I doubt it goes down any further. A low 70's morning, with dry air, will be a pleasant relief.

I have to add that a complex of thunderstorms moved through Louisiana overnight, dissipated, and the clouds continued into our area. This lowered the high temperature to the mid nineties, which the searing sun, is a welcome relief, except for the high humidity. This cloud cover should allow a pretty moonrise a little after sunset. I'll make me some coffee, sit on the porch, and enjoy the view.

Looking At My Arms

As I was drinking coffee, I looked at my arms, noticed the scars, and thought about the ones I remember. There are many, and some came from interesting events.

Under my left arm, right below my wrist, is where I nicked my arm with a chainsaw blade I was changing. It was during a hard time in my life. I had been laid off, found another job, was trying to get ahead of my mortgage foreclosing, and had to work every hour I could. It was Winter, I was working on a rail crossing in a refinery, and to add insult to injury, I had the flu. I was miserable, but after it was all over, I kept my house, and made it through the hard time. The cut became infected, and some red streaks appeared around the wound. Not wanting to panic, I decided to wait until the next morning to go to a doctor I had no money for. The red streaks were gone that morning, the redness was receding, and the wound healed. 

On my right arm is a scar from catching it on a barbed wire fence. It was an ugly gash, but healed without problems. I probably could have used some stitches, but didn't go to a doctor. 

On my left middle finger is a scar from when I slipped, while placing some tin on a roof, and peeled the skin on the the top of my finger to the first joint. I went to a small hospital near, the doctor soaked it in betadine for a few minutes, then put a pressure bandage on the finger. It eventually healed, and a slight bump on that finger brought pain for over a year. 

On my left arm are five scars from a day at the beach. I was with in-laws, some people were walking their dogs on a leash, and they became too close. One of the large dogs, which was a big, friendly hound mix, lunged at the leash, and caught my arm with its front claws. That left some deep gashes, which didn't bleed much, but definitely hurt. 

On my right arm is my favorite scar. It was the result of a pissed off monkey that didn't want to go back to its cage. Up to that point, she was a bundle of love and sweet. When I went to return her to her cage, she bit, caught me with a canine, and ripped an L shaped gash. It didn't bleed hardly at all, but I could see tendons in the deep wound. I danced around after pouring peroxide in the wound, covered it with a gauze bandage, and let it heal without closing the wound. Animal bites can bring deep infections, and I wasn't going for stitches for that reason. As far as the monkey, it took all my strength to hold her arms, and tail, keep her head from biting, and getting her in the cage. 

I can still find a small scar from a piece of wood that stuck in my arm. I thought I had only scratched on a 2 x 4. It wasn't healing fast, and about a week later, I squeezed out a rather large piece of broken wood that remained after I brushed against the lumber.

I have a multitudes of small scars from years of using a burning torch and being burned by spattering slag. that, and the scars of three surgeries on my wrists included with the areas my doctor burned off pre-cancers. Looking back, my hands, and arms, caught the worst of it all. My aging skin shows them better, and with my now wearing long-sleeve shirts to keep out of the sun, they will remain unseen. My wounds of life will forever be unknown testaments to my experiences.

The Clear Indication

 The last Denny's has closed in San Francisco.  There's nothing I can add, the article says it all.