July 07th, 2023

Much like that sun, right now it feels a lot like I'm melting.  It's hot out.  Not just hot, it's super hot. It's super de dooper hot.  And I guess that sounds kind of silly because after all this is July which is a summer month and summers, traditionally, are hot.  And then there is the fact that we live in Florida, the Sunshine State, a place people visit intentionally because of all the sunshine.  But this is hot beyond that.  The entire planet has been setting new hotness records!  Kind of crazy.

Recently, we had a day where the "feels like" temperature was 113.  That seems excessive don't you think?  Right this minute, while it's only 87 degrees Farenheit outside, the "feels like" is 101.  What on earth?  How does that even happen?  

On the brighter side, I don't, currently, see a 'heat index warning' which we've had every day for at least a week now, so that's a nice change.   Geez!  

I know that this sort of heat is going on all over this country, not just  where I live.  I think it's even happening in other countries as well. I apologize because I haven't really been following the story. Not my usual style, I know. Normally, I am fascinated by information of any sort. But, uncharacteristically, mostly right now, I'm grateful for air conditioning, drinking lots of water and trying to think cool thoughts. 

Things like: polar bears, the Ullr Fest in Breckinridge Colorado, The Frozen Dead Guy  Festival in
Nederland Colorado (for real!)  popsicles, ice cream, ice bergs, ice water, ice sculpture festivals  (ice is a strong theme here) and the days I work as a docent at the Museum where, inside it's still Very Cold and I wear long pants and bring a sweater every day.

I think about the first house my parents had in Connecticut which had a big pool that was unheated and sometimes, diving into it was like diving into a glass of ice water. Very brisk and refreshing.   I remember having very chilly feet while wading along the water's edge (while wearing sneakers because of sharp rocks, shells and barnacles) up in Maine, where the water is cold year 'round.  Remembering standing over the heat register in California on a cool morning, dressing in front of the woodstove in the kitchen of the very old farmhouse in Connecticut and being bundled in so many layers of coats, snow pants, scarves, hats and mittens in St Louis that I could barely move.

Odd memories pop into my head like the specific smell of wet mittens drying on the radiator, the scent of breathing through a wet woolen scarf, the taste of an icicle we knocked off the side of the house,  coming inside after playing in the snow with rosy chapped faces and runny noses and the feel of my frozen hair when I would go outside right without first drying my very long hair.  I remember that squeaky and then crunchy sound of being the first person to break through the crust of a heavy snowfall and the struggle of getting galoshes on over my shoes (and then once again, trying to get them back off).   

I remember shoveling snow over and over throughout a long winter and hands that were so cold, even while wearing gloves or mittens, that my fingers ached.  I recall huddling behind  anything bigger than me - telephone poles, parked cars and trees -  while waiting for the bus on a frosty windy winter morning as a kid.  And if there were none of those things around, just turning my back on a particularly fierce and stinging gust.  Instead of complaining about the 'heat index'  I vividly recall whining about 'wind chill factors'.  

Over long Thanksgiving weekends, when we lived in Colorado, Tim and I would go up into the mountains to visit the town of Estes Park where, on the evening after Turkey Day, there would be an "illuminated parade".  People would be all bundled up against the cold and wind and sometimes snow, drinking Hot Chocolate, Hot Coffee, Hot tea while lining the streets, waiting for the parade and then on the walk back to the Hotel we would find ourselves walking next to enormous Elk who, apparently, also watched the parade.  

As a Kid I remember intentionally trying to make designs, like "smoke rings" breathing with our mouths in different shapes into the frigid air.  On the farm, I recall using a shovel to break the ice on the top of the water source for the cows and horses, sometimes several times a day and bringing in load after load of wood to keep the woodstove going.

Smaller, faster memories: Getting "brain freeze" from drinking a Slushy too fast,  having a purple tongue and lips from purple popsicles,  the glitter and prisms on the ice coated bushes and trees as the sun rises the morning after an ice storm,  making snow angels and snowmen, trying to walk or at least stay upright on an icy side walk,  wearing thick heavy oversized sweaters and knee socks with tall boots and still feeling chilly and I remember being so cold all of the time that it seemed as if I would never be warm again.

Ahhh Memories!  Ok that'll help for a little bit.  I'm ready now to head outside to water the potted garden and get all hot and sweaty again.

Please stay safe in this terrible heat.  Hopefully, it will settle down to a more normal sort of summer weather very shortly.

Have a good weekend and hugs all 'round.