Posted tagged ‘hot’

Cpl. Stone: Colonel says you need a dead shot, mister. Professor Tom Nesbitt: Yes. Ever use a grenade rifle? Cpl. Stone: Pick my teeth with it.

June 1, 2013

The day is bright and sunny and cooler than yesterday. It is 70˚ right now, and the high is expected to be only 79˚. Yesterday it got to 90K˚. I have windows open this morning instead of using the air-conditioner.

Yesterday was a busy day. I washed the deck and cleared it of pollen and dead leaves then I went to Agway, big mistake. My back complained loudly as I pulled the huge wagon filled with all sorts of plants. I bought tomatoes, cucumbers and squash for the vegetable garden, basil and rosemary for the herb garden and deck boxes and all sorts of annuals for the clay pots I put on the deck. When I got home, I unloaded them to the front walk then sat on the front step until my back was better. The plants sit there still waiting to be planted but not today. My back and I need a day of rest.

One more trip to Agway for some perennials and  more herbs should do it for the garden this year. I’ll do that tomorrow. My landscaper wants to mulch, but he’ll have to wait until I shop one more time.

This morning I watched a fun, really great B science fiction movie, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. It was made in 1953. The Beast, a pre-historic monster, was awakened from hibernation by-here’s where you get to guess the cause of his rude awakening. (I’ll pause a bit to give you time to think.) If you knew to say atomic bomb, you’ve watched far too many B&W 50’s science fiction movies.

This film had everything you’d expect: men wearing fedoras and coats running down the street away from the beast, women on fire escapes screaming and pointing but not thinking about going inside, horribly fake snow and backgrounds and corny dialogue. The general told Bazooka Man to fire. The poor guy had no name. The French scientist, the first to see the Beast, asked our heroine, ” What’s a girl like you doing being a paleontologist?” That girl paleontologist wore the most God-awful looking dress to the ballet. She even added long black gloves to complete her ugly ensemble. The cop shot at this enormous beast with his handgun. You can imagine the gun’s effect: none, and for all his heroics, the cop was eaten by the beast, head first into the mouth with the cop’s legs hanging from the mouth before he was totally devoured. The beast was wonderful because he was the first Ray Harryhausen monster special effect. As the movie was winding down, the poor beast was wounded, but he wasn’t done. His blood fell in droplets on the street and released some horrific prehistoric germ which killed more people. The beast was racking up fatalities. For the ending, the movie went full circle: a  radioactive isotope was shot into his wound by a sharpshooter who added drama by shooting from a car at the top of a roller coaster. The Beast writhed in agony before it died: end of rampage, end of Beast and end of movie.

“God, it was hot! Forget about frying an egg on the sidewalk; this kind of heat would fry an egg inside the chicken.”

May 31, 2013

I never did get to the garden center yesterday because Gracie and I went to the dump. She saw me bringing trash to the car despite my stealthiness and got quite excited at the prospect of going to one of her favorite places. I couldn’t disappoint her so off we went. When I got home, I sat for a bit and that small break drained me of any ambition. It was around two, and I was sitting on the couch reading and sweating because yesterday afternoon was about 84˚. Why in the heck am I sweating thought I so up I got to turn on the air-conditioner. The house was so hot it took until early evening before it was comfortably cool. This morning I went outside to see if I could turn off the air. Nope!

I had no milk or cream so Gracie and I went to Dunkin’ Donuts. She enjoyed her morning ride and I got my coffee. We are both happy with the start of our day.

I don’t remember being hot when I was young. I remember cold, but the memory of heat escapes me. We walked from one end of town to the other to go to the pool, and I remember carrying my towel and bathing suit in both directions. On the way home the wet bathing suit was wrapped in the towel. I remember walking up the huge hill on the way to the square, but I don’t remember the rest of the walk. I remember tired but not hot. At night, the air was sometimes stifling in my bedroom, but I always fell asleep anyway. It was the exhaustion of a kid in summer.

We didn’t have air-conditioning. Nobody did. We didn’t even have a fan that I remember. My mother pulled down all the shades in the house to keep it cooler. We were moles every summer.

When I lived in Ghana, some days I minded the extreme heat. I’d sit in my chair, and when I got up, the imprint of my body was in an outline of sweat on the cushions. Candles melted sideways without being lit. That’s how hot it got in the Upper Region. I didn’t have a fan then either, never even thought of buying one. I just got used to the heat as best I could. In my mind it was just part of the experience of being a Peace Corps volunteer in Africa.

Every night I’d take my cold shower, no hot water, but the first water from the pipes was always hot, warmed by the sun, and I’d wash my hair quickly. The rest of me endured the cold water. I always took my shower just before I went to bed. I had learned not to dry myself off so I could air dry once I got into bed. It was like I was my own air-conditioner. I think the Peace Corps calls that adapting.

“Vacation is what you take when you can’t take what you’ve been taking any longer.”

July 11, 2010

The movie got rained out last night. We had a tremendous storm which lasted only a short while but still drenched everything. Today we have a bit of sun, but the humidity is as bad as it’s been. Just sitting here typing makes me sweat. The movie is a maybe for tonight as there is still the possibility of afternoon thunderstorms. I wish the rain would clear the air.

I was never one wishing for summer during the cold of winter. I always say it is easier to get warm than it is to get cool. Being inside right now is stifling though outside doesn’t feel much cooler. I figure on spending a good part of the day in my bedroom in the air conditioning.

My muse is on vacation. I think she was driven away by the heat and humidity. It’s difficult to be creative when you’re sweating. I start thinking wonderful thoughts then in pops the I’m so hot I can’t stand it thought. All else is gone.

I want to be Samantha or Jeannie with the power to whisk me away to somewhere cool. I won’t be greedy, just for the day would be fine.

We’re calling today a mini-vacation brought on by heat and humidity and the lack of a cogent thought.