I'm ashamed. I not only quoted the title of a Glenn Frey song, but I also kind of cited the Miami Heat.
I hate the Miami Heat. And Frey is a douche bag.
Nevertheless, I resorted to it because it *was* a catchy song, and, it's hot as Texas here.
This part of summer I can do without. The last three days the temperatures have climbed into the mid-90s. This is awful.
Most homes here don't even have a/c. Barbaric. Our home was built in 1912. There are two window a/c units (currently uninstalled). I haven't the foggiest how to install them, but we decided to tough it out as the temperature is expected to drop into the low 70s as highs for the coming week.
A week ago, it was 46 degrees. Today, we decided to catch a movie during the middle of the day in a nice cool theater. The readout on the car thermometer got as high as 98.
A 52-degree difference in a week. Really?
M has been told it didn't top 90 last year until August. I certainly hope that we're not about to get the type of summer that is as intense as the winter was.
It's just too much. Normally this place is windy but I've been aching for a breeze the last two nights. As the sunlight recedes right now it is finally a little bit more livable, but it still is just too hot.
Before 10 a.m. I bit the bullet and mowed/weedeated (weedate?) the yard. That's done. I'm officially taking the rest of the weekend off.
And that rain and cooler temps better not fake us all out.