The Ann Arbor Art Fair starts today. It’s a big deal—the largest in the country–a juried show with a thousand artists that attracts half a million art lovers a year. It’s also known for featuring the worst weather of the summer.
You don’t know which type of terrible weather will happen, but you can pretty much count on there being something. Potters may be sanguine about deluges; pots, after all, look good in the rain. But rain sets painters and print makers scrambling to protect their wares. Huge winds, on the other hand, can knock pots off stands, and I’ve helped other artists run down their art as it takes off down the street.
And heat? Dave Rexroth, chief meteorologist for one of the Detroit news stations, said recently that the temperature is “almost always” between ninety-four and ninety-six degrees during the art fair. I was in one of my favorite artists’ crowded booth one sweltering day, and heard someone say, “It’s so hot sweat just dripped on my leg, and it wasn’t even my sweat.”
This year, says Dave Rexroth, will be different. We can expect sun and clouds with maybe a little breeze, and temperatures in the eighties, at most. Half a million people will be grateful. Let the fair begin.
On the home front, our elderly dog has come up with a new trick. For years, he has slithered head-first into the grass to cool down on warm days. He rolls and wriggles, once he’s down, using grass for recreational purposes before he stands up again and walks away. But twice so far this summer, he’s chosen inclines for his wriggle-and-roll routine, making a different dismount possible. First, the slither and wriggle. Then a roll uphill, followed by a roll downhill. Which brings him right back up to his feet. He doesn’t throw his front paws up into the air to accept the adulations of the crowd, but he’s clearly pleased with himself.
Rolling is occurring on the home front, as well. The red squirrels in our yard have decided the time is right for harvesting spruce cones. This involves biting the cones off the tree and dropping them onto our roof, where they land with a thud before rolling off the roof and landing on our deck with another thud. They do this every year and show a strong preference for the early-morning hours and the spruce that overhangs our bedroom.
Thud, roll, roll, roll, thud! Thud, roll, roll, roll, thud! And where do the squirrels like to eat this harvest? On the deck railing. They perch up there, holding the cones lengthwise in their little paws, and eat them like corn on the cob. Earlier this month, we saw a baby squirrel out there, munching away on a miniature spruce cone. This method of dining leaves amazing amounts of cone debris on the deck, which we then need to clean up. We are but staff.
This summer, a fox squirrel with an extra-long tail has shown up in our yard. The tail is striking, an extra quarter or third longer than usual. My sweetheart and Daughter Number Two both saw it before I did, and both remarked upon it. My husband has now developed a bit of a thing about this squirrel.
While eating breakfast the other day, he felt eyes on him. It was Long-Tail sitting on the deck outside the sliding glass door, watching him eat. My sweetheart flicked his napkin at Long-Tail. Who did not go away. Husband resumed his breakfast.
Whereupon Long-Tail threw himself at the glass! We’ve had the occasional bird strike at our windows, but we haven’t even heard of squirrel strikes. My sweetheart says Long-Tail is trying to get in, and he may be right. He’s asked me to be vigilant when entering or leaving the house, lest Long-Tail make a dash for it. We’ve had animals get into our houses before, including squirrels and including this house. Houses do not fare well with critters in them.
My husband reported this week that Long-Tail was watching him. When I looked outside, Long-Tail was stretched out on a branch, with face toward the house. It looked to me like he was sacked out for a snooze.
Husband assured me this was not the case, that Long-Tail’s eyes were only half-closed. Long-Tail “just sits out there watching the house,” hubby said. “He’s biding his time.”
In the meantime, the weather bids fine for the art fair. Rascal has a new rolling routine. We’re cleaning up, as usual, after the red squirrel cone-heads, and we’re keeping an eye out for Long-Tail.
19 July 2024