Category: Summer

El Fabuloso nearly does the double

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 1 Comment
July 1 rain
We even got a little rain today. Not much, but every little bit helps.

Faboo the Fast just about caught everyone napping in the finale to stage 1. The yellow jersey popped off the front, but Peter Sagan was watching and came along for the ride, followed by Edvald Boasson Hagen.

Sagan did the smart thing, which was to stick to Cancellara like a decal until just before the line, then nip around for the win. Mr. Fab’ got second and kept The Big Shirt. Eddie van Hagen held on for third.

The Slovak strongman’s victory celebration was a tad affected, prompting the following tweet from @cycletard: “Memo to Peter Sagan, the Village People want their dance back.” Ouch.

I almost missed the finale — the power went out in a sizable portion of the neighborhood for reason(s) unknown (perhaps Michelle Malkin’s Massey Ferguson diesel dildo overpowered the grid) and Colorado Springs Utilities was estimating it might take a couple of hours to get everyone back on line.

Happily, we had juice for the final kilometers, and I got to see a rare sight indeed — a yellow jersey on the attack. Good times.

Speaking of which, the smoke eaters are making progress on the Waldo Canyon fire. It’s a long way from out, but containment is at 45 percent and some evacuees are getting into their neighborhoods for a look-see. Those who still have homes standing may have to wait a while to take up residence again — some extensive reconstruction of utility infrastructure will be required.

Smoke gets in your eyes

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments
The Squeaker of the House
Ordinarily Mr. Boo would be fetching that orange squeaky toy from room to room, demanding playtime (squeaka squeaka squeaka), but it’s too damned hot to play Squeaker of the House today.

Deadlines have been eating up my mornings and record temperatures and smoke have been smothering my afternoons. I had to close all the windows for much of yesterday as a waterless thunderstorm up around Peckerwoodland Park shoved the plume from the Waldo Canyon fire right through downtown Bibleburg.

This morning all the varmints are stretched out on various bits of floor, trying to stay cool. It’s already 82 inside the house, so this is pretty much a lost cause.

Buddy (a.k.a. Mr. Boo) is not amused. Of our three critters he is the one most affected by heat. Turkish just flattens out until he looks like a big white throw rug with blue eyes, turning himself into a radiator. Miss Mia Sopaipilla simply naps more. But Mr. Boo insists on conducting business as usual and it always ends badly.

For example, this morning he was eager for a walk. And for about 30 seconds he even enjoyed it. After that it was just like walking a dog, only in slow motion. I’m going to buy a skateboard and henceforth shall tow him behind me like a hairy, bug-eyed little trailer.

It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity, part 2

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
The Waldo Canyon fire
The Waldo Canyon fire, as seen from a couple blocks west of Chez Dog.

Sonofabitch. Now we’ve got a live one encroaching upon greater cosmopolitan Bibleburg.

Dubbed the Pyramid Mountain fire, it started somewhere near Waldo Canyon and is already estimated at some 600 acres. An assortment of mandatory and voluntary beat-it orders are in place for west- and north-siders, but at the moment it seems the prevailing winds are pushing the thing north and west, so Your Humble Narrator is not in danger — at the moment, anyway — of becoming a hot dog, har har.

The fire has been declared a federal emergency, and renowned feddle-gummint rassler Dougie Lamborn (R-Hypocrisy) reportedly “stands ready to assist if federal resources are required.” In light of the serious nature of the event I’ll refrain from delivering the obvious ironic rimshot.

More as we hear it.

• Late update: The fire is now officially named for Waldo Canyon (no “Where’s Waldo? jokes, please), and late word is that it’s torched a couple thousand acres and displaced about as many people. Nobody hurt so far, according to the local rumormongers, which is good. You can replace burned-up people, just like you can replace burned-up stuff, but the process takes longer and the outcome is uncertain.

The winds seem to have died down, but it’s always creepy to look at the sky at 9:30 p.m. and see peach-colored clouds and a moon that looks like an orange slice from some kid’s Halloween candy haul.

It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 5 Comments

Jeebus. Four days of record-breaking heat in Bibleburg and more on the way. Lord, I know it was supposed to be the fire next time — I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.

Speakings of fires, have I mentioned that we’ve got ’em out the wazoo? Up near Lake George, around Fort Collins, at Pagosa Springs and around Mesa Verde, for starters.

The Springer fire near Lake George is thought to have been human-caused, if you can describe as “human” one or more of the lesser primates banging away at a propane tank with the old smokepole. Yes, that’s the rumor behind the news, as The Firesign Theatre would put it. And the crazier the rumor, the greater the likelihood that it’s true. We also have a serial arsonist lighting up the roadside grasses in Teller County. Good times.

The menagerie and I are left alone to endure this smoky pestilence, Herself having pissed off to Mouse Country for some class of library confab at which they all dress severely, put their hair up in buns and practice the hissing of “Shh!” at each other. Just as well, I suppose, as the metaphorical flames of multiple deadlines are licking around my feet and I can’t seem to stomp them out fast enough, which makes me unpleasant company.

And at least we still have a pot to piss in and a window to throw it out of, unlike a whole bunch of folks up in Larimer County, whose homes are now portable, fitting neatly into their cars’ ashtrays. Makes a shit monsoon feel like a gentle summer rain.

Hot town, summer in the city

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

August is going out like a dragon that breathes fire from both ends. We just had two consecutive days of record-setting heat, as in 93 yesterday and 95 today, and may get the hat trick tomorrow, when the forecast is for 90-94.

Toss in a 5.3-magnitude earthquake near Trinidad that was felt as far north as Fort Collins and it’s already been quite a week, though it’s only Tuesday.

Tomorrow our new dog Buddy goes to the vet for the third time in a month — this time, he’s going under the knife for bladder stones — and Herself’s Wednesday I won’t even tell you about, other than to say that it starts at dark-thirty and ends at dark-thirty and involves work, study and more than a hundred miles of driving.

And Your Humble Narrator? I actually have a day free, so who knows? I might ride a bike or something, like those dudes contending (Not) The Tour of Colorado. Only slower. Much, much, slower.