According to two thermometers I encountered this afternoon, it was 100 degrees here. Now, I'm not one to squirm when the heat index soars; after countless summers in Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina and Georgia, I am no stranger to heat. I can do it all: sticky hot, dry hot, curling-my-stick-straight-hair hot, even the infamous "I am scorching my lungs with every breath I take" hot.
I realized today, though, that I am a novice. After all--I suffered all those Southern summers with air conditioning.
Here in WA, a/c is a seldom-used luxury that home builders don't even throw in on the 3,000 sq. foot McMansions. Needless to say, my 1,500 sq. foot townhouse isn't appointed with such. Thankfully, the builder did throw in a lovely garage with concrete floor, as well as a window on the other side of the house for cross-ventilation purposes. Ahhhh ... the good life! Lounging in the garage, water-coloring with the children and listening to "Treasure Island" on CD (again).
When we tired of the decadence of garage living today, my little family and I packed up the sunscreen and headed to our friends' house. They are blessed with a large-sized inflatable kiddie pool, as well as a batallion of other water toys to delight the under-9 set on a blistering day.
This seemed like the perfect way to wait the too-hot day awa. And it was. Until the fateful moment when Logan misjudged the size of a rather large stone he was lugging and somehow managed to chunk it on his hand. I was thrilled to hear him scream (really! He has a frighteningly high tolerance to pain, so acknowledging is good!), but more than a little troubled when I noticed that his middle finger was facing the wrong way. YIKES!!!
So we ended our sweltering day in our van--which boasts a fabulous air conditioning system--and our doctor's emergency appointment room--also more than adequately cooled! Logan is none the worse for the wear, though he suffered a dislocated finger (not his first) and a compression fracture on his hand (first time in that body part). He took it all in stride. Honestly, I think he was as happy as I was to have an excuse--albeit painful--to sit in the frigid air long enough to peel one's shirt from one's back.
Hey, I'm not advocating this as the perfect way to spend the fiery days of summer. But it sure beats hiding in your garage!