Summer

Have I gotten so used to air conditioning that I have forgotten what it is like to swelter in the heat of summer?

For over a week, the temperatures have been just under 110 degrees, hot by any standards, and no, it's not a dry heat. It's humid and drippy. Excessive heat warnings have been posted for the area, most of the mid-west if truth be told. So even packing a bag and getting out of  town is not an option since everywhere within driving distance is under the weather channel's red warning map (not to mention what it would cost in gas to get away). And the cat no longer runs to escape outside when the back door is opened.

Growing up on the shores (inland a little) of Lake Erie the temperatures got to 90. The highest temperature before this summer was 104, recorded in 1988, but I was long gone by then. On the side of our house we had a mulberry tree whose branches made a graceful arch up from the trunk to sweep down to the ground creating a perfect hidden, cool respite from the weather. Well, truth again, it wasn't really perfect since the mulberries acted like Ritz dye when sat upon creating a challenge for who ever was on laundry duty that week. It was never me.

But back to the present. Walking to the mailbox or the newspaper box becomes a waiting game with my husband. Who wants the paper more, me or him? This is the only time I have regretted getting him an IPad for now he can find all the news he needs or wants without our daily morning paper. Truth again, the news in the paper, especially the global news, is old by two, sometimes three, days. A whole war could be started and won (or lost) in the time it takes the local press to get the news out. Celebrities marry, divorce, and remarry all in the time it takes me to find out they are an item. But I digress.

We are wusses.

And that's what I think about it.