In Montana not many of the homes have central air conditioning. Rarely would anyone need it. It has been especially hot the last few weeks so improvisation is the key to remaining cool. My house has a crawl space with a little door in a room we have always called the office. I don’t know why we call it the office. It has never had a desk, or even an office chair, that I can remember. Most of the time it is just a passage to put decorations in or out of the crawl space as the holidays change through the year.
The crawl space is a good source of cool air. I have a small fan I sometimes leave propping the little door open which cools the lower level of the house quite nicely. The other levels reap some benefit from this as well.
My friend Carl travels for work sometimes, which is common in the construction trades. He has been sleeping in Scott’s room. I still call it Scott’s room even though my son now lives in Kauai. Carl settled in, hit the rack.
As I was about to dose off I heard Carl making a clunk clunk noise. I thought he was restless, not being in his own bed. A few minutes went by and I had heard the noise several times. Clunk clunk clunk. Sometimes twice, sometimes three or maybe just once. Nothing steady to it, I may have gone to sleep if it was rhythmic. I turned a few times and tried to divert my attention. Sometimes at night I listen to some Chinese traditional music to relax. That did the trick. Then at three thirty six, clunk, softly, just barely audible. What is Carl doing down there?
In the morning I heard Carl leave for work. I soon got up and took my shower. As I was getting dressed I heard clunk clunk. I descended the stairs and found this fitness jump rope swinging lightly in the breeze on the office door.
I apologized to Carl about the rope clunking all night. “No” he said, ” Never heard a thing. What are you talking about?”
Nevermore, clunk clunk, nevermore.
Cars are often advertised as one owner. It brings visions of a pampered vehicle looking like it just rolled out of the dealer lot. If the car is from the 1950’s most likely the truth is the original owner’s estate left it to the guy who sold it to the dealer, who sold it to the guy, that bought it on a speculation, when the economy was flying high, and he just sees it as another investment that went bad.
I met Bob Skelding on my way to Crow Creek in the Elkhorn mountains. Check his blog: 
Montana Big Sky Country 