Sunday wasn’t noticeably hotter than than the day before, or the day before that, but around two in the afternoon my t-shirt started sticking to the back of my chair and I found myself turning up the ceiling and floor fans. It didn’t help, and a couple of hours later I checked the thermostat and realized our air conditioner had conked out. Donna put in an emergency work request with the company that services our AC. We didn’t think we’d get a response until Monday or Tuesday and were steeling ourselves for some really sweaty days. We even started making arrangements to take the animals to a friend’s house for the duration. But guess what? Two hours after Donna put in the emergency service request the owner of the company showed up at our door with a bag of tools and replacement parts. By seven that night we had cool air again, and even better, it wasn’t an expensive repair, just a blown capacitor.
It helps to have friends in the business … the owner just happens to be a neighbor in our subdivision. We consider ourselves very fortunate. A failed AC in the height of the southern Arizona summer is nothing to scoff at. How ever did people manage here before air conditioning?
We’re waiting to hear from the animal hospital on whether or not Mister B has valley fever. We know the test results came back yesterday, and the veterinarian should be calling soon. We’ll go from there.
Well, that was quick! The vet who’s been treating Mister B just called. Our good boy tested positive for valley fever, so now we know what to treat him for and I’m driving by later today to pick up anti-fungal medication. The course of treatment for valley fever is a long one: he’ll be on meds for nine months to a year and will need to be periodically retested to see how he’s progressing.
It’s as predictable as Bubba down to the Jiffy Lube asking why ain’t there a White History Month, then strutting around like he just came up with the liberal snowflake putdown of all time — say anything in support of the Black Lives Matter protests and the whut-about-black-on-black-crime-in-Chicago crowd starts shouting you down.
Is it any surprise that after sending actual jackbooted federal thugs into the streets of Portland, Oregon, Trump now says he’s sending them into Chicago as well?
Is it any surprise those same jackbooted federal thugs were nowhere to be seen when the protesters were heavily-armed alt-right militia assholes upset over quarantines and face masks?
Is it any surprise to learn the NRA didn’t really mean it when it said the 2nd Amendment is there to help Americans stand up to a tyrannical government?
We know plenty of people who voted for Trump. To a person, they claim they aren’t racist. And yet they voted for one and plan to do so again. I’ve never been able to square that.
© 2020, Paul Woodford. All rights reserved.