Working outside, in the heat of the summer in Arkansas, became an exercise in patience and bodily economy throughout the second half of July and most of August. When you grow up in a hot place you get used to a certain amount of physical discomfort and your body learns to tolerate certain temperature extremes. The Caribbean in the summer is hot, still, and humid. The breezes die down, the ocean turns to bathwater, and you swim around looking for any upswell of cooler water. Arkansas in the summer isn’t much different, but the heat felt more inescapable. At work, we hosed off multiple times a day, performing the hardest tasks in the morning, and mostly stayed in the shade in the afternoon, trading stories and watering plants as needed. Unlike last summer, when Honey and I were traveling in the camper, we couldn’t just up and leave for somewhere cooler when the temperatures climbed into the high 90’s or even 100’s. We could, however, head for water every chance we got—and we did.
Our hiking explorations had to be put on standstill until tick season ended and there were less spider webs crossing the trails at face height. We attempted a hike one morning in the woods not far from here, and came out of covered in spider webs and mystery bites that stayed swollen and itchy for weeks. Mine cratered in the middle and developed a small scab. Honey’s put him in histamine overdrive and triggered a 3-day heat rash that came on so fast we could see the hives appear and spread along his lymphatic pathways. Cool oatmeal baths and generous applications of after-sun aloe gel got his body back to baseline, but it was a very uncomfortable couple of days for him and we decided it simply wasn’t worth the discomfort.
At the beginning of July we took a week off to celebrate my cousin’s wedding in Indiana. He and his partner got married in France in 2020, but two weeks before the wedding, France shut its borders to American travelers and none of our family, except Honey and I, was able to attend. My cousin’s parents and sisters gave their speeches via Skype and we live-streamed the events for anyone who wanted to watch from the other side of the Atlantic, translating as best we could. It was moving and heart-wrenching (I cried many times), and yet, a wonderful and joyous celebration of love. The grooms vowed to have a Stateside celebration for the guests that couldn’t make it the first time, and we made sure we would be available to celebrate with them for this second party.
True to form, we packed our schedules full of family meals, game nights, and outings, spending as much time with everyone as we could. The party was going to be outside in the neighborhood park down the street from my aunt and uncle’s house, and they all dreaded the July heat and humidity. Fortunately, the day of the party dawned unexpectedly breezy and cool and we spent a lovely afternoon chatting and playing lawn games with our extended family. The next day a bunch of us went rafting and the day after that we drove up to Holland, MI for a glorious day at Lake Michigan. If you’ve never seen the Great Lakes, it’s hard to imagine just how much they resemble the ocean. When Honey first saw Lake Michigan, on our sort of honeymoon trip to Traverse City, MI, he kept repeating over and over, “I can’t believe this isn’t the sea.” Obviously, there’s no salt, so you don’t get that specific marine tang in the air, but the view is endless horizon, gulls, and spectacular white sand beaches. The water at Holland beach was pretty cold, but that never seems like an excuse not to get in.
It took me about a week to recover from all of the people-time once we got back to Arkansas. I always look forward to spending time with my extended family, and relish all of us being together, but it also drains me when I don’t have enough down-time to recover from all of the energies and emotions. I struggle with the anguish that we’re drifting further apart as everyone grows older and more scattered over larger distances, each with their own families and priorities. When Covid first hit, my maternal aunts and uncle decided to cancel our longstanding tradition of having an extended family Christmas after the official holiday. They were tired of always hosting, of none of our generation offering to pick up the baton, and felt it was time to give the whole thing up. I’ve probably missed more of those gatherings than most of my cousins, but I always treasured the fact of them happening, of our bonds being continuously renewed and revisited each year. The thought gave me immense comfort, but in the past several years, beyond the Covid times, it feels like something immeasurable but important has been slipping away, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is I’m missing, though several of my cousins echo the sentiment.
Once we came back home to Arkansas, time seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down. Days at work dragged with the heat and most days only one of us would stay at the nursery in case of customers. After work Honey and I would often go for a swim, and in the evenings we’d either head to downtown Rogers for the free concerts at the Railyard, or to the Walmart Amp to see more well-known bands. We discovered a couple of indie artists that we really like through the Railyard concerts, namely Auralai, an incredible lyricist and strings duo, and MK Ultra (recently renamed The Spooklights) whose weird blend of techno-bluegrass had everyone in the audience moving and jumping in a sort of irresistible joyful funky dance. The Walmart Amp is about 15 minutes from our place, so we grabbed tickets to a few shows ($45 for the lawn feels like a steal, but they make up for it with outrageous prices on concessions!) and got to see ZZ Top, Lynard Skynard, Arkansauce, Lana del Rey, Interpol, Smashing Pumpkins, and Phoenix. We feel so fortunate to have access to so many cultural opportunities after our years on the island. Sure, we had live music, but nothing on this scale, or with this frequency
We also spent a weekend in Tulsa, OK, which we kept hearing was really fun. The weather predicted for that weekend was 109ºF—about 5ºF hotter than what we were supposed to get in Rogers, so we planned on mostly doing indoor activities or spending one day in their big waterpark. Amazingly, that first night, it stormed and the heat broke. So much so that we had to buy sweaters because we hadn’t brought any with us! It gave us a great excuse to hit some of the fabulous thrift stores there and take advantage of tax-free weekend.
Since the water park was out of the question, we spent one evening out on the town, with a nice farm-to-table dinner at Juniper followed by arcade games at The Max Retropub. The bar served the cheapest drinks we’ve had in years and the aging hipster bartenders threw me back to my 20’s in Boston when being a hipster was still new and cool, instead of just grungy and a little outdated. Honey, as per his habit, trounced me at every single pinball machine we played, and I soon turned to people watching to distract myself from my growing list of defeats. One of the patrons that night wore full musketeer regalia, complete with feathered hat, but sadly, no fencing sword. Middle-aged couples out for date night flanked us on the other pinball machines, while 20-something young professionals flittered from game to game. It’s easy to feel at home in such a mixed crowd.
The other two things we enjoyed in Tulsa were the Philbrook Museum, a 1920’s Mediterranean-style palace, which houses a wonderful collection of modern, religious, and Native American art, and The Gathering Place, an elaborate and stunningly well-designed public park on the banks of the Arkansas River. Driving to the Philbrook, we passed through some of Tulsa’s wealthiest neighborhoods and it was easy to see how the oil industry in Oklahoma drove the economy during the early part of the 20th century. The museum itself is a treasure. It will come as no surprise that I particularly enjoyed the display in the old library, which exposes the art of traditional printing and bookbinding with some beautiful engravings and 18th century examples of large printed books. A video documentary illustrating the process of binding books by hand plays in a loop and I honestly could have watched it all day.
All of this summertime moving and shaking carried us to the end of August and the end of the 6-month lease we’d taken when we first moved into our cozy-but-crappy apartment. The rent was unbeatable, but with all of Honey’s estate sale treasure hunting, we’d outgrown the space and wanted something a bit more comfortable. After a week of visiting rentals, debating between standalone houses, duplexes, and apartments in the kind of cardboard developments I’ve always hated, we opted for a 2-bedroom in a more recent apartment complex. Not having to buy and move our own appliances figured heavily in that decision. As rental owners ourselves, it would never occur to us to rent a property without appliances, but apparently our position is the more unusual one and none of the other places we saw came with washer and dryer (one even came without a fridge).
All in all, we’re happy with the move. We’ve got more space, more windows, and a view with lots of privacy compared to the other units in the lot. Until we’re ready to buy, it’ll do.