110° - again! Really?! I'm thinking I've always been a heat wimp, but 110° is a bit excessive! Once we hit 105°, I am so done. We are wilting out here. My friend (Hi Bobbie! Waving feverishly) in Iowa is griping about the rain. I can not imagine griping about rain, but they really have had more than their share. We don't gripe about rain out here. We gripe about the lack of it. What I wouldn't give for some of her rain and I'm thinking she would love nothing more than to send every last drop our way, but I'm not sure she would appreciate our sweltering temperatures.
I do see a pretty green blob on the weather radar to the west of us and I'm trying to entice it this way with prayer. I'll be thankful for whoever gets it though because we're all in dire need of moisture out here. At this point, green grass is a figment of the imagination and its a full time job just keeping the trees alive. Even the cats are laying in the shade panting. Poor things.
The heat makes me grumpy, but I am once again taking refuge in our new air conditioning and instead of being a grump, I am thankful. I walked out a bit ago to change the water and the heat hit me like a brick wall and took my breath away. It whisked me right back to a day about 8 years ago when we spent the day painting a cattle guard about 40 miles east of Pecos, Texas. We were taking care of a banker friend's cattle in exchange for keeping some of our own cattle on his place. We had completely draughted out in our country, but this place wasn't looking much better.
It was 120° that day and I was pretty sure the kids and I were going to be sick. DH said it wasn't that hot, but I'm thinking he's not a normal human. We would paint for 5 minutes and take cover in the only shade available for miles...under the truck... and pass around a wet handkerchief while DH checked cattle horseback.
Anytime it gets over 100° now, I am instantly transported back to that day and I feel faint and woozy. Go ahead, call me a wimp. Call me a city girl (DH's endearing nickname for me on occasion). I don't care. Just get me out of that heat because if you don't, you just might find me packing all of us up and looking for a new dirt road...in Alaska.