Tuesday: A hot, damp day in June
Sooo…yeah. Come late afternoon, I go to throw a little chow on the grill.
DayUM, but it seems kinda warm out there.
Check the back porch thermometer. Ayup: 115 degrees.
In. The. Shade.
Well…really, I didn’t need to toss the shrimp on the grill, did I? All that was necessary was to set them on a plate out in the sun for a few minutes.
LOL!
Stumble outside. Retrieve shrimp.
Incredibly, the damn things are done unto perfection. They’ve been on the grill for…ohhh…about two minutes on each side.
It worked. That’s all that matters. I guess.
***
Vast banks of white clouds are piling up to the north.
Cool OFF, little grill, so we can close you and toss your cover over you, because pretty quick now we can be sure it’s gonna rain like Hell.
Why, in the name o’ God, would anyone want to live in this place?
The nerve — the NERVE, I say — of my parents to drag me here when my father saw a chance to quit his hated job and “retire” to this gawdawful venue!
***
Friday…Another Day: Absolutely Positively NOT Another Dollar…
Lost track of time…probably because the brain fried.
One o’clock in the afternoon:
108 in the shade of the back porch
Rented a PO box for all the sh!t that comes in (and goes out)
Contemplating my mother’s “career” as a real estate agent; thinking holeee sheee-ut
Contemplating my mother’s “career” as a Wife and Mother: Thank you, God for delaying my birth into the mid-20th century
Sitting in the air-conditioned living room, sweating like a pig.
Do pigs sweat? Why? Dogs don’t sweat. Cats don’t. On the other hand…horses do.
Cruised around North Central Phoenix this morning & early afternoon, ogling real estate.
Do I want to become a Realtor?
My mother tried that. Flopped.
Unholy flop. You have to be a lot more dedicated, a lot more hard-working, and a lot smarter than I am to succeed in that game.
Especially when it is as GAWDAWFUL HOT as it is today.
Pushing 110 in the generously ventilated shade of the back porch.
The nerve — the NERVE, I say — of my parents to drag me here when my father saw a chance to quit his hated job and “retire” to this gawdawful venue!
Damn! Whatever possessed the man?
*****
Tempus Fidgets
and
Now it’s 6:20 p.m.
HOTTER THAN THE HUBS in the backyard! It’s 111 degrees in the shade. Five percent chance of rain.
(Does boiling water qualify as “rain”?)
A couple of peakèd-looking cumulus clouds lurk to the north — way north of the Valley, it appears. So the alleged chance looks mighty remote.
Ruby is conkered out on the bed. Good thing we managed to get in our DoggyWalk along about dawn this morning. No chance we’d be able to go out this evening. The sidewalks are too hot for her to walk on now, but even after dark, when the concrete will cool some, the asphalt roadways will be WAYYY to hot for her dainty paws.
***
Saturday
5:00 a.m.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Annoyances of the 21st Century: Beeping goddamn phones.
The land line — which remains much easier for me to use than an accursed cell phone — has to be kept charged up. This is because its handsets are battery-operated, just to add another hassle to daily life.
To accomplish this, you have to set the handset on a base unit, which has a charger. When you do that,it “reminds” you…by going BEEP! about every five minutes after it’s fully charged.
Profoundly annoying!
*******
Sunday
Mid-afternoon
Almost got a nap in...til the damned phone rang. Friend/erstwhile client on his way over. He wants to hire(?) me to help with his latest book.
ohhhhkaaayyyy…
Outta the sack. Throw on some rags. Go out front to find irrigation hasn’t come on. Plants are frying. Neighbor across the street is out puttering in the 110-degree heat.
This is the spouse of the formerly beloved neighbor who for reasons unknown has cut me off. Flat.
Yes: She will not speak to me! If I call, she hangs up. If I go to the door, she won’t answer.
Why?
I. Have.NO. idea.
Ohhhh well. We already knew I’m not a nice lady. Apparently I’m even MORE not-nice than we thought.
Hotter than the hubs of Hades out there.
*******
Client/Friend in. Client/Friend out the door. He left several chapters of his new manuscript, a rumination on the way political and social power has shifted over the past century. I’m looking forward to reading it.
Evening rolls in. Put the BBQ away: cover it to repel the coming rain.
Ten after 7 at night: 103° and overcast.
Should go swimming. Why, after all, do I have this swimming pool???
But nay: it’s just too, too HOT. A hundred and three degrees with gray skies — thickened by wet-looking clouds. Ugh! What a place!
