Whenever there are high heat warnings from the weather forecasters, they tell viewers to keep an eye on senior citizens who could suffer. They should be checked on frequently. Today, I realized, I am a senior citizen and perhaps someone should check on me.
Today I ran the local writers' tent at the farmers' market here in Seymour. Susan and her two grandsons helped me set up the screen tent, then I was ready for a long sit.
The sun was beating down on those of us selling our wears but not on many purchasers. I read, did puzzles and talked to other vendors. I had an chest full of ice and dipped my cup in from time to time. A few people stopped by, not to buy books but to talk about books they intended to write. And the heat index rose.
I took two breaks to go to the mini mall adjacent to the market: first, to go to the post office to have our mail held for another week; and second, to go to Family Dollar to use their rest room and to buy some chicken salad and crackers for lunch. I went back to the tent and perspired some more.
I talked to more people, ate some Storheims' frozen custard (Death by Chocolate), bought some vegetables. And it got hotter.
After three hours, a new vendor arrived, a young man with some lovely metal sculptures of trees along and some interesting jewelry. He had a table and a chair but no cover from the shade. I asked him if he would be all right and he said sure. He had two bottles of lemonade. In fifteen minutes, he had finished off the lemonade.
Even with cover, a tree overhead and a cooler full of ice, I felt myself getting sick. I called the young artist over and made him an offer. He could have my screen tent. I don't have any expectation of coming back to the farmers' market. Gary and I will be camping all the way into October. If by chance I do find time for the market in the next six weeks, he and I will share it. Meanwhile, he's got shade. And me, I could leave without having to take down the tent. And remember, I bought that tent for $1 at a rummage sale. No big loss.
I threw all the books and my chairs into my car and went directly home to take a very cold shower.
Today I ran the local writers' tent at the farmers' market here in Seymour. Susan and her two grandsons helped me set up the screen tent, then I was ready for a long sit.
The sun was beating down on those of us selling our wears but not on many purchasers. I read, did puzzles and talked to other vendors. I had an chest full of ice and dipped my cup in from time to time. A few people stopped by, not to buy books but to talk about books they intended to write. And the heat index rose.
I took two breaks to go to the mini mall adjacent to the market: first, to go to the post office to have our mail held for another week; and second, to go to Family Dollar to use their rest room and to buy some chicken salad and crackers for lunch. I went back to the tent and perspired some more.
I talked to more people, ate some Storheims' frozen custard (Death by Chocolate), bought some vegetables. And it got hotter.
After three hours, a new vendor arrived, a young man with some lovely metal sculptures of trees along and some interesting jewelry. He had a table and a chair but no cover from the shade. I asked him if he would be all right and he said sure. He had two bottles of lemonade. In fifteen minutes, he had finished off the lemonade.
Even with cover, a tree overhead and a cooler full of ice, I felt myself getting sick. I called the young artist over and made him an offer. He could have my screen tent. I don't have any expectation of coming back to the farmers' market. Gary and I will be camping all the way into October. If by chance I do find time for the market in the next six weeks, he and I will share it. Meanwhile, he's got shade. And me, I could leave without having to take down the tent. And remember, I bought that tent for $1 at a rummage sale. No big loss.
I threw all the books and my chairs into my car and went directly home to take a very cold shower.
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