Hot, hot, hot

We are getting a taste of what it's like to live in Arizona year-round with hot temps in the summertime.

But it's only mid-April! And already the temps have been in the 90s (mid- to high 90s) and this weekend and through early next week - 100 and 102 degrees.

Whew!

We will return to Minnesota the end of April and might think about leaving early except they just had snow in Minnesota. Snow!  Schools were closed in Chisholm, north of where we live, due to blowing snow and ice.

It's a crazy weather year, for sure.

Our little tabletop cactus is blooming, proving nothing stops a cactus from forging ahead on schedule.

Most of the ground cacti have finished blossoming now. But the trees have flowered and are full of pink and red blooms. So beautiful lining the roads as you drive down the street.

Snowbirds have returned to their summer homes now, and it appears we are among the last holdouts to leave. It's awfully quiet on our street.

So another week or so and we'll pack the Jeep, load Catrina, the cat, into the back seat and start our 2,000-mile journey home, saying goodbye to Arizona and its heat, and eagerly await the sight of our children and grandchildren's smiling faces.

That's the thought that keeps us going mile after mile to our home destination.

Dog days

I learned from the weather news last night that the phrase, Dog Days, derives from the stars.

The brightest of the stars is Sirius, referred to as the "dog star." It happens to be the brightest star in the night sky, and the ancient Romans thought that the earth received heat from it.

In the summer, Sirius rises and sets with the sun, and it was believed that its heat, added to the heat of the sun, created a stretch of hot and sultry weather. And so, “dog days” was named after the dog star.

Okay, that's academic.

All I know is that it is unbearably hot and humid for so early in the summer. I thought we started "dog days" in mid-August.

So is this another effect of global warming? Some scoff at the idea of global warming, but I don't see how it can be denied. So many changes in the atmosphere lead me to be a believer.

Webster's secondary meaning of "dog days" is: a period of stagnation or inactivity.

So that explains it!

My husband and I are sitting around in a funk today. Now I know why. It is to be expected. That is reassuring.

I can proceed to do nothing today. Absolutely nothing. This is going to be a good day.

Except it's hot......

Hot and steamy

No, I'm not talking about a Harlequin romance. I'm talking about today's weather.

Worse than hot and steamy. It's actually stifling, suffocating, oppressive, unbearable. High 90s with almost as high humidity.

I got the car out of the garage this afternoon, only to go as far as the local library. When I came out of the air-conditioned library, the heat and humidity seemed even worse.

I thought back to when I was growing up. How did we ever manage without air conditioning? There was no such thing in the 1950s, at least not at our house.

Instead, we ran washcloths under cold water and patted our faces, though our mother warned us not to do that. She believed one should use a warm cloth in hot weather instead. I don't know if she was right or not, but I remember the cold washcloth feeling so good.

Then we'd take turns putting our faces in front of the little black fan that sat on the kitchen counter. This little black fan was our only cooling device. Its blades whirred and blew on us as we walked by and felt the cool blast of air.

Even Susie, our cat, who we discovered was really a male long after we named her/him, just lay on the cool basement floor, unwilling to venture further, especially not outdoors.


(Right) All of us with our aunt and two cousins on a warm summer day.


We also made "popsicles" of sorts. Kool-Aid poured into ice cube trays with a toothpick worked slick.

Sometimes we'd all go to Lake McCarron's beach where we'd spread out a blanket, don our bathing suits, and run into that large body of water. Aaah, that was pure pleasure.

When it was still hot in the evenings after dinner, Dad would take us all out for a drive in the station wagon. We'd roll down all the windows and stick our heads out, feeling the wind. No car seats or seat belts got in our way.

On a rare occasion, we'd stop for a nickel Dairy Queen ice cream cone. What a treat. The ultimate reward for a hot day.

Later, when we went to bed, we'd turn every which way to try to get cool. Laying at the foot of the bed, across the bed, or however we could get some relief. We'd eventually drift off.

Now we suffer little, working in air-conditioned buildings, having central air at home, in the car, on the bus, and everywhere you go. You can easily escape the misery.

Still, we complain. Hot and steamy.