It’s been a hot summer. A dry one too.
Yesterday was pretty warm – it got to just under 40°C (about 100°F) – and it was supposed to get much hotter today.
My parents rang me early this morning and invited us to come over to their place – swim in the pool, sit in the air-conditioning and go to the movies.
We thought we might go to see Parental Guidance with Billy Crystal and Bette Midler – an all round three generation pleaser. It was a corny American comedy – and it was really all I was up for .
The Bear didn’t want to be pleased by such a movie, and elected to stay home alone - someone has to be here. Why? In case something happens to the house. Well, something could happen to the house any day. Not today.
Cue eye rolling and impolite internal dialogue.
He rang me later, at about 4pm. Apparently it had dropped 10 degrees in the last hour to a balmy 37°C. Gawd.
How did you keep cool? I asked. I filled a bath with cold water and lay in it reading my book.
I am not a poet, but occasionally I get inspired by the weather or seasons to write some poetry. This is what I wrote today:
Drip, slipping, puddle This heat’s got my mind in a muddle Damp, sticky, sweating Don’t touch or come near and definitely no petting! White hot burning glare There’s no mercy Nor respite out there Toss, turn, sigh – same, same Fan whirring – is it dawn? Lord, it’s hot again. Escape, withdraw, hide - we need a circuit breaker. Is that a storm building outside? Brewing, stewing, baking Heat and light are fading; We stretch tight with waiting. Plink, splatter, clatter… No, the storm moves around and hopes of coolness shatter.
Maybe we will get a storm tomorrow.