My friend, Karen, gets up at 5:00 a.m. to drive her dog to a patch of grass two miles away. He does his business, then runs around like crazy for a few minutes. The rocks and sidewalk around her house are already too hot for his feet.
At 5:30 a.m., Kathy leaves the house in the golf cart for a 6:07 tee time. Her cooler is stocked with sports drinks.
I hear the neighbor’s outdoor workmen who begin 6:00 a.m..
By 7:00 a.m., I’m grocery shopping. I smooth out the reflective screen across the window, grab my insulated grocery bags, but leave my extra-large yeti cup filled with ice water in the car. When the car is out longer, I drape a towel over the steering wheel.
On the way home, the softball teams are finishing their game by 7:45.
Two hours later, I attend my weekly quilt meeting. Afterwards, I walk across the courtyard and do two miles on the treadmill at the fitness center. Some days, I go to the indoor pool.
In the afternoon, I have a hair appointment. It’s close enough to walk, but today, I drive the car.
Yes, it’s hot in Phoenix. The national news likes to report that every night, followed by stories from our local news. We don’t need to hear it any more. The hottest July on record, the most number of days over 110, the hottest low temp of 96. The list goes on. Our trees and bushes are so stressed, the leaves are turning yellow, even though the roots are watered. The tops are simply getting sunburned, enough that I’ve seen some folks cover them with old sheets.
A Michigan friend has invited us to come and stay with her. Another friend checks in every few days. In the beginning of this streak, I told my sister that I was imagining the time as snow days and staying inside, playing games and sewing. The truth is, we never had this many consecutive sub-zero days.
Fortunately, we have solar so I don’t wince every time I hear the air conditioner run, and we keep the temp at 79, slightly cooler for sleeping.
Life in the frying pan continues to sizzle and we continue to move on, just earlier and often, slower. Kathy has more time on her hands as her pickleball schedule has been curtailed until the temps come down to 105 at 6:00 p.m., her court time. My biggest concern? Boob sweat, unlike any time in my life. Yep, you read that right.
The high temp in a week is supposed to be 102. I feel a celebration coming on! And if boob sweat is the worst issue for me, I have a mighty fine life.