Here I sit, cool as a cucumber in my re-electrified Mansion. Yesterday was a challenge when the power went out at 12:10. I sat around soaking up what was left of the cool until about 2:30. Then The Pony and I went off to town on a couple of errands. One of which was to pick up an early supper. Because there's nothing to do without electricity except eat.
Part of the excursion involved picking up pictures for the #1 son at The Devil's Playground. He was busy, of course, using up the remaining power on his laptop. I could not face a walk through that steaming not-heaven hole to the back of the store to the counter where the pictures could be obtained. So I sent my minion, The Pony, much to his chagrin. He is not a people person. But with proper instructions, which he repeats to himself under his breath, he can manage.
The joke was on me, because once I dropped The Pony off out front, I had to wait in the parking lot. Yes, it was only for five minutes. But the temperature was 112 degrees. I think it was due to the heat flowing from INSIDE The Devil's Playground out onto the parking lot. In any case, once we got rolling again, the temp dropped to a mere 109.
I don't want your pity. Farmer H does. He is at the Cardinals game tonight, running concessions as part of Newmentia's fundraiser for Project Graduation. I imagine it is much hotter at the stadium than it is at The Mansion this evening. I told him to drink plenty of water, and put ice on the back of his neck. At least other school personnel are there to accompany him to the ER if he succumbs to heat stroke.
I'm about ready to pack up and move to Death Valley, where it's cooler.
4 comments:
The forecast calls for triple digits alll the way into next weekend, if the future forecast is to be believed. I just looked at Mon - Wed and worried how I'm going to function in the heat working outside and wondering how many dead baby birds I'm going to find in the nest boxes :(
I had this image of you, HM, roasting like a turkey. Oh, wait, there's Newman, basting you. He has saliva dripping down in his chin in anticipation.
You'd better be careful and stay cool. Newman is dangerous when he's hungry...
Oddly enough, I have a rash of tent campers. Suffice it to say that you will not ever find me willingly tent camping, but if I decided to rough it, it would not be in triple digit weather!
Chick,
You poor working woman! You need one of those thingies that you can freeze and then drape around your neck. We had some several years ago, but I don't remember what they were called. Had some kind of gel in them, and were cloth-covered.
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Sioux,
Guess I shouldn't have used the butter to make my skin so supple. Newman is no danger when he bastes you right after his night job as The Cleaner. He's full of muffin stumps.
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Kathy,
Yet another poor working woman, making me feel guilty for my summer of slothfulness. I can't speak for Sioux, though. She may be more productive than I. Or she may have her feet kicked up, admiring her broken-down Crocs, watching Seinfeld reruns, calling it The Summer of Sioux.
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