The Heat Has Gone To My Head!

“It’s so hot and humid today,” I thought to myself after I mowed and ran errands. “I better take it easy.”

I didn’t iron – too hot. I didn’t cook – far too hot by lunch! I couldn’t focus on my self-assigned book. I turned on the fan and sat, surfing the ‘net and trying to stay cool.

“Oh, I know!” I thought suddenly.

And that’s how I came up with the bright idea of removing the shower doors by myself.* I’d like to report that it wasn’t as hard as I expected, but that would be a lie. Jerkface MacGuyver, the builder of La Casa de Tontería, employed excellent installers; too bad the doors were cheap garbage. Although the rust-encrusted caulk crumbled under a double-dose of elbow grease, the wall anchors will NOT budge.

However, I was pleasantly surprised that my klutziness didn’t interfere. Even gravity was my friend!  Once the doors fell off the wall into the tub, taking the entire top metal strip with them, it was MUCH easier to tear them individually from the lower strip.

I admit I grazed my right index and ring fingers on metal, but there’s no bleeding. So I put away the first aid kit unused.

I was quite pleased. Until I realized I desperately need a shower but there’s no curtain. Oops.


*My friend Daniel offered to help in exchange for homemade chocolate mocha cookies, but his work schedule is definitely hospitalish. Readers employed in the medical field will understand!

Rain, rain, go…. right here!

When it rains – even with accompanying lightning –  I’m very happy. It’s been so dry that I started carrying buckets of water to certain plants, such as the rhubarb and hydrangea.

On the other hand, the dryness made the heat bearable. Last week was in the mid-90s again, but it felt cooler than previous humid days. Plus the mosquito population died back.

I should mention I live in an extremely humid region, a marshland bordered by a river. I’m not native to The Swamp – as my colleagues call it affectionately – but I learned a few things quickly:

  • Cardboard storage boxes are pointless. They absorb moisture whether they’re in the attack attic or shed. Sometimes they fall apart in your hands even if they don’t look rotty. Sometimes they attract creatures that like humidity… yikes!
  • Musty smells differ just like flower scents. I like loamy dirt and after-rain smells, but cool nights cause the warm swamp to “breathe” –  blech!
  • Perspiration doesn’t have a cooling effect because it doesn’t evaporate. It just rolls down your body, under your clothes. It’s like wearing a sauna but without the camaraderie.
  • In the dry winter, the humidity is forgotten – until you take out the good stationery to write an old-fashioned holiday letter. Then you’ll discover that, sometime during the summer, the humidity glued the envelopes shut.