It has been a very nice weekend here in Biffville (population: sweaty).
The temperature was quite a bit lower than is usual for this time of year. It hovered in the low 90s (34 C), whereas is is usually up around 100 (38 C). However, in order to maintain balance, Mother Nature cranked up the humidity to make sure we were not unduly inconvenienced by the milder temperatures. For example, at the moment is is only 95 degrees (35 C), but the humidity is 50%, so the heat index makes it feel like it is 107 ( 41.6 C). This is just a little service Mother Nature provides to keep us from getting too soft and complacent.
Heat I can bear. However, this morning I walked from my back door out to the back alley and back to put some trash in the container , which is a round-trip of about 30 or 40 yards. By the time I got back inside, my clothes were so wet and heavy, and my skin glistening with sweat, that I thought I was going to have to take another shower.
And good hair day? Forget about it! Not gonna happen. My hair goes berserk in this humidity. Half of it lays down flat like wheat in the field after a hailstorm, and the other half stands straight up and at all angles. I end up looking like a clown who couldn’t decide if he wanted to be a happy clown or a sad clown, so decided to sniff airplane glue instead.
Both Saturday and Sunday started off with light rain, so the yard both days was too wet to mow. I was, of course, devastated. Those of you who read my blog often know that one of my greatest enjoyments in life is getting outside in high heat and humidity and pushing a 50 pound lawn mower back and forth for two hours while fighting off mosquitoes and wasps and talkative neighbors.
Here is the executive summary of the past 48 hours of my weekend.
Sad, isn’t it?
Obviously, if I gave up sleeping at night, I’d have a lot more time to do things I don’t enjoy doing.