Pardon me while I whine for a bit.
For the last two weeks, we've been in the grip of a heat wave. It's laughably cool by some people's standards -- our high was 97F and we don't have much by way of humidity -- but without air conditioning, it's just plain hot. Whine whine.
I hate heat. I always have. I get grouchy and snappish when I'm hot. I can happily walk the dog when it's -0F (you can always bundle up), but go outside when it's over 90F? Ug.
We used to live in central California and then later southwest Oregon. In both places, the summer temperature could effortlessly reach 115F. I wanted to estivate during those times.
When we lived in Oregon, there was a husband/wife team who hosted the morning radio talk show. The wife was in heaven whenever the mercury climbed over 105F. She adored hot weather. Couldn't wait to get outside. I thought she was nuts.
I simply cannot fathom living in the southwest or anywhere it routinely hovers around 100F or higher. Been there/done that/hated it.
I feel intensely sorry for anyone who must work outside during these times -- highway workers, construction workers, landscapers -- and of course, all the hard-working firemen and women fighting the insane fires in California and other places.
Around here, anything outdoorsy gets done in the wee hours of the day. I'm out in the garden by 5:30 am. Mr. Darcy gets his long walk by 9 am. (We dash out for a short walk around 4 pm or he'd climb the walls.)
It's times like this I can't wait for fall. Maybe even winter.
Okay, whine-fest over.