Since When Did We Relocate to the Amazon?

Holy. Effing. Crap. There are no words to sufficiently describe the ugly that is a humid summer here in southern Ontario. Hot and humid, followed by sticky and smog. It’s nasty. At 8:00 AM when we returned from our walk this morning, it was 27 degrees, with a humidex of 39. AT 8 AM.

When we walked out onto the porch this morning, it was like walking into a bathroom after someone has just had a really hot shower. By the time we were 15 minutes into the walk, my hair was wet. By 30 minutes in, my clothes were wet and clinging to me. By the time I returned to the porch again, I couldn’t see through the sweat dripping into my eyes.

But as sure as I live and breathe, there is nothing, NOTHING I tell you, more delicious than walking into air conditioning after 45 minutes in that kind of humidity.

Yes, I know the typical Canadian joke about the weather is that we all say “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity!” Yeah, yeah. But there’s a good reason why. I mean, this is CANADA, for the love of dog. It’s supposed to be 4 seasons of seasonable weather, yes? Sure, we get lots of snow in the winter, so I suppose that this is summer’s equivalent to buttloads of snow in the middle of February. But somehow, that’s more tolerable than this. You can dress for the cold and the snow, and you can stay indoors. But with the humidity, you can’t get more naked than naked.

I need to win the lottery. First order of business: pay off some IVF debt. (Of course.) But the SECOND order of business? Put in a POOL. And then upgrade the air conditioning.