Holy cow, it's hot.

I mean, it's been hot, 90°F and upward. We've been spoiled by the last few summers which were either cool or cool and rainy (last summer it practically rained every day—not just a quick thunderstorm rain, but heavy-gray-cloud steady rain until the backyard smelled like primordial ooze—well into August), as opposed to the summer when we moved into the old house, the wonderful weekend with 99°F temps and 98 percent humidity? (And have I said thank you again to the folks who helped us move on that terrible day?)

Today in the shade there is a slight breeze and it's uncomfortable but marginally bearable. But in the sun...especially standing on a white concrete sidewalk...well, it has all the charms of sticking your arm in the oven while the chicken's baking, and holding still for a while.

Even as a kid I despised summer, except for the fact that school was out (and then I had to go to work during the summer once I turned 16 and even that pleasure was gone). I wrote this inspired piece of doggerel sometime around 1971, when I was fourteen:

"You know what would fill me with elation?
To have, no heat, no frustration
A winter vacation!

So here's to the school board, earnestly wishing
For school in summer; we'd really be listening
(As long as they put in air conditioning)!"

Prize-winning it ain't. Heartfelt it sure was.

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 3:02:00 PM

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