A friend in NC so kindly pointed out that my whining about the heat here in the Pacific Northwest would not be tolerated.
"You know what hot is," she reminded me. "So put your big girl pants on for a whole stinking week and deal!"
She said this as she was warning her children not to go outside, mind you, because it was time for the mosquito truck to come through the neighborhood and hose the area down. If you don't live in certain areas of the south, you have no idea what I'm talking about. If you do, you're nodding your head and wondering if all that airborne crud is really so good for you after all.
Anyhow, I digress.
The point was, it's hot here. It's hot here, and there's no air conditioning. It's hot here and I can't even say the heat balances out, because I look outside and there is a decided lack of Spanish moss to be found draped on the branches of the trees.
So pardon me if I whine about the heat. I promise I'll regret my little snit sometime in February. And yes, I'm thanking my lucky stars that no one is coming by to spray my street with malathion anytime soon. But did I mention ... it's hot?
Until the heat wave breaks, you can find me in front of the fan with a glass of iced tea. I promise you, heat is made that much more bearable with a glass of sweet tea in your hand.