Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

It’s Called Summer

storm1WE’VE HAD SOME REAL THUNDERBUMPERS here in the last day or so. Cloudbanks clinging to the edges of cold or warm fronts (I forget which is which.) were scuttering across the sky – all looking like The Mothership was hiding within them, just waiting for the signal to launch their swarm of invaders.

It is early Summer in the Midwest. The thermometer reads in the high 80s and even into the low 90s. It feels almost tropical. The high humidity makes sweating a fulltime activity. My deodorant was getting a real challenge on days like that.

With the high temperatures and all the humidity it is not unusual for there to be afternoon showers – some accompanied by a peppering of hailstones.storm1A

I am hearing some people complaining about this weather. I do not understand that. It’s Summer fer cryin’ out loud. It’s like this every Summer. I think that these Summer decriers would rather have snow and sub-zero temperatures!

It’s Summer and we won’t have to hear the Weather Bunny use the phrase “Wind Chill” until much later in the year.

Hallelujah!

Give me 90 degrees any day of the week if the alternative is 5 Below Zero and Snow up to my 24-pack abs.

Last evening, my wife, the lovely and thermodynamic, Dawn, and I were going out for the evening after the rains had ceased. The sun was shining again and everything had a look that storm2was simply primeval. There was a glistening dampness on all of the leaves that made it all seem very Jurassic. A warm mist was floating among the shorter plants with rays of sunlight shining through. Saying that all of this made it “muggy” doesn’t go far enough. If you wear glasses you’ve experienced those moments when you open the door and your lenses instantly fog up. That is what it was like (Until the AC in the car kicked in.).

This morning it is a completely different world. The rain clouds have vanished; tstorm3he Mothership has moved on to another galaxy, and the humidity has dropped down to where it is more bearable. It is also 15 degrees cooler. Now I can walk around without leaving a small creek of sweat. For a while there I was like a snail with a slime trail.

I like this better.

I don’t know if my preference for warm/hot weather is based on genetics or what, but I think that it must be playing a big part in it. I was born in Snow Country (Northern Ohio, right on Lake Erie) and I am most comfy when the thermometer hits that 80 degree mark. My wife, on the other hand, was born in South Texas, near Corpus Christi on the Gulf of Mexico, and she loves it to be cool enough to keep lettuce fresh for months. I just don’t get it.

storm 4A few years ago we spent some time in Phoenix, Arizona – in late June. While I say that I like warm weather I do have a limit. It was getting up to 114 degrees in Phoenix. I described it as like sticking your head into a pizza oven. One night the LOW temperature was 97 degrees. I don’t know how those people stand it.

Give some hot weather a few days a year. I can survive the heat and the mugginess – the Jurassic-ness of it all. As long as there are no Velociraptors hiding among the daffodils.

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One thought on “It’s Called Summer

  1. Another good one, John! For me…………Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! However, I too lived in Arizona for awhile. Yuma. It was 118 in the shade when I stepped of the refrigerated train. But, I liked it in that dry heat. Spent mornings and evenings outside. Sometimes during the “heating times”. When it get right down to the nitty-gritty, though, I prefer winter. As has been said, “You can wear enough clothes to keep warm, but you can’t take off enough clothes to keep cool”! Oh, I guess you can, as long as you don’t go outside where the Bobbies can see you and haul you off to the little room with a lock on the door.

    Like

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