Summer is here. It’s as humid as can be, and hot too. Like living in someone’s armpit. And the weather has been like it would be on a tropical island: hot and humid in the morning, sunny and hot through the day, clouding over into the evening and then rain. Sort of like a summer day in Barbados, only without the palm trees and beaches and island atmosphere. And if it WERE Barbados, I would not be complaining.
We have not been getting enough rain to keep the grass from going dormant. It’s a brown, crunchy carpet right now. Except for the thistles, which seem to thrive in this weather. And it has been inconvenient on a number of fronts. First off, it has completely screwed up my gardening pattern. There’s not enough rain to keep my garden from going all limp and wilty in the heat of the afternoon, so I still have to go out and water periodically. And I am still waiting to put in the last of my tomato plants because I don’t want to subject them to the scorching afternoon sun, but I think that it’s time to bite the bullet and get them in. Otherwise, they won’t have time to bear fruit before the frosts set in in the fall.
Second, when you wake up to thunderstorms at 5 am on a trip-to-London day, my husband worries about me driving myself in my little car. And today, he worried about driving in my little car, full stop. So we took the truck, which sucks on the holy-crap-would-you-look-at-the-price-of-gas front. Driving 3 hours for a 5 minute blood test is ridiculous expensive.
Third, it’s kind of hard to enjoy my “you’ve been a good girl, here’s your treat” post-appointment dark mochaccino when it’s sticky hot outdoors and in. The last thing you want to do on a sticky hot day is drink a sticky, hot beverage. Not that I’d turn it down, OF COURSE not. But it certainly dampens my appreciation of said delicious treat.
Mind you, if I were living in Barbados, I wouldn’t be drinking a whole lot of dark mochaccinos anyway.