Friday Morning Stuff

It's supposed to get to 108° today and 107° tomorrow. I didn't think it could get worse than a solid month of 104°, but I was mistaken. Fortunately, we have a cold front moving in on Monday, which will take us back into the high 90s. Oh, bother...

I've been in hotter weather, however. I remember back in 1979 when the boys and I drove through Lake Havasu, on the border of Arizona and California, it was 110°. At night. And we were in my old 1964 VW van with no AC. I've spent summer days in Las Vegas as well, where leaving one casino to go to another felt like walking into the open jaws of a dragon

Out there in the southwestern desert it's dry, though. The humidity is nil, so it feels different. Not hotter or cooler, just different. Compare sitting in a car with the heater on full blast to sitting in a sauna. You'll have to decide which you prefer. Personally, I'll take humidity. At least with it you feel like you're being boiled as compared to being broiled. Pasta water or Weber grill. You decide.

Every single day of the past month I've voiced how grateful I am for the new AC in our house. As hard as it was to go without it for a week last spring when the temps were in the low 90s, I can't even imagine if it had waited until now. This cottage stays very comfortable at 73° whereas at our last house I was constantly resetting it between 68 and 74. Remember how much I complained about that thermal system? And remember how it broke down twice a year? This house is much better insulated, too. I love this little cottage; our once $400 utility bill has been cut in half. And I can sit here as comfortable as you please, and I don't have to listen to those two awful AC turbines all day, all night!

Yeah, as I said when I dreaded moving into a small house, sometimes moving down is moving up.

Sometimes, I wonder how the pioneers withstood this kind of heat. Or the native Americans. I suppose they just spent the days quietly, barely moving, staying in the shade or sitting in a stream. Something tells me the native Americans handled it better because they were acclimated to prairie heat. Nor were they the whiny babies we whites have become. They didn't struggle with nature, they lived in harmony with it.

Last night I watered all of the flower beds, refreshed the birdbath, and soaked all of the potted plants on the porch. I'll do it again this evening, and even in the afternoon, if there are any signs of distress. The cat isn't very happy with me because I'm making her stay inside. Well, let me clarify. We struck a compromise. Because of her incessant caterwauling, I left the kitchen/garage door ajar so that she can come inside when she wants. She loves the heat, but 108 is too freakin' hot, even for a pussycat.

[Insert rude joke here.]