It is hot. The heat is so muggy and tacky and completely bewildering it’s difficult to do anything but slouch on the futon and have mental arguments with oneself. About what? Such things as the plusses and minuses of rushing out to buy a portable air conditioner (even though we can’t afford it, and besides, this weather won’t last forever, and it’s a sucky, wimp-ass thing to do) - important, meaningful arguments.
To make matters worse, the infamous Prairie mosquito season is upon us with avengence. Renée and I tried walking down to the local gelati joint last night, and after a mere hour outside I was literally engulfed in loonie-sized mosquito bites. We beat a hasty retreat back to the sauna-like (but mosquito-free!) confines of the apartment, where the cats were well-nigh swooning in the heat. I sprayed them with the watter bottle and swear I heard them squawk “hallelujah!”
So, on this Canada Day weekend, it’s hot (45° Celsius with the humidity factored in), during the day, and encephalitis-carrying, nunchuck-wielding killer mosquitos at night. Here’s hoping you’re comfortable and bite-free - happy birthday, everyone.
Ice. Snow. Pool. Shower.
