It was warm these past few days. Open windows and fans but no air conditioning. Guacamole and margaritas for dinner twice.
We compare the heat here with the heat of the south and our friends here in California ask us about humidity. We can’t describe it. The air is thick. You can’t get cool in the shade. The heat is part of you. You sweat walking from your front door to your car. They ask us if people shower less there. Does everyone just accept the sweat and stop caring? No, you shower multiple times a day–a pool, a sprinkler, and air conditioning in a singular showerhead–it is the only thing that works.
On hot days I like to accept that work of any kind does not need to get done. Read books and make good cold food and sip on something refreshing. Then shower, and repeat. Mango popsicles, iced lattes, and brazillian lemonade become our lifeblood.
When I was in the 5th grade we had an above ground pool in our yard. I spent an entire summer reading Nancy Drew and The Babysitter’s Club, half of my body submerged underwater, floating on a donut filled with air.
I miss my childhood most when it is hot out. A mosquito on my arm, a blast of hot air from an open window, the smell of sunscreen, the feeling of wet hair and fresh clothes after a mid-afternoon shower, flowering plants in bloom. All good things.