heat

Wow, is it hot. So hot, the clean bedding I hung out in the sunshine to dry came in smelling faintly of sweat. Even the air must perspire!

In this old farmhouse, we have two window units, upstairs, to make sleeping bearable. We try to draw the cool downstairs using fans. Even so, it's 85 degrees. The slightest movement makes this mama sweat. I grow cranky, quickly.

Going outside, though, makes inside feel refrigerated. It's a temporary consolation; the feeling fades in minutes.

To make myself more grateful, I put our thermometer outside. The temperature rose five degrees in five minutes; the humidity increased five percent.

It's hot. And my Farmer works away tonight, filling in for someone's holiday. I pity him. (I pity me, alone).  How can he breathe? The air's so thick.

And yet, he goes on, cheerful. I must pretend, at least, to follow his example.