"We're having a heat wave, a tropical heat wave, the temperature's rising, it isn't surprising ..."
It's a little warm these days. And nights. The temperatures reached 90 degrees and above every day in July so far. But who's counting?
I'm not complaining. I'm just observing.
So, how hot is it?
Well, it's so hot the Devil was seen at Shea's Hardware buying an air conditioner.
It's so hot I saw Mae Borger running through the sprinklers in the garden section at Wal-Mart.
It's so hot, the Statue of Liberty has arm pit stains.
It's so hot, I actually felt emotionally close to my bedroom air conditioner this morning. It completes me.
It's so hot, one of Adele Argot's chickens laid a fried egg.
It's so hot that it makes me want to take off my skin and sit in my bones.
It's so hot, birds have to use potholders to pull worms out of the ground.
It's so hot, I walked outside and heard bacon sizzling. It was my fat.
It's so hot, I can roast marshmallows on my belly. They taste a little like bacon.
It's so hot that all the water buffalo have evaporated.
It's so hot I burn my tongue talking about it.
It's so hot that I have found out (the hard way) that my seat belt buckle could be used as a branding iron. I'm forever Chevy's.
When the temperature drops below 95, it feels a bit chilly.
I discovered that it takes only two fingers to drive my car.
The best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
It's so hot it's like living in the french fry bin at McDonalds.
It's so hot all Jeffrey Borger's corn on the stalks started popping and flying through the air. His cows thought it was snowing and they froze to death.
About a week ago, I watched the movie "The Seven Year Itch." In it, Marilyn Monroe's character says that when it's so hot, she puts her underwear in the freezer. I actually thought about doing that yesterday, but I was afraid I'd get a brain freeze.
As I was leaving for a meeting Monday night, I saw Harry looking through his binoculars, focusing on a spot in the soybean field across the street. He waved me down.
"Here, look through my binoculars and you can see a black groundhog," he said.
"Yeah. Right," I said with skepticism. But I looked anyway.
"That's not a groundhog. That's a cat," I said.
"It's not a cat," he answered indignantly. "It's a black groundhog."
I think the heat wave got to him and had him seeing things.
So I checked on Google and sure enough, just as there are albino groundhogs, there are melano groundhogs (black.) Very rare, but they do exist.
I hate when Mr. Know It All is right, and just to mess with his mind, I'm still sticking with a cat.
Last night I watched "Design Star" and the latest design challenge was for the remaining three contestants to design a bedroom in a yurt.
What's a yurt, you ask?
A yurt is a round portable, bent wood-framed dwelling structure traditionally used by Turkic nomads in the steppes of Central Asia.
I was being silly this morning and came up with this little rhyme as I was driving to work. I'll blame it on the heat.
My name is Gert
I live in a yurt.
It has round walls
It has no halls.
It's good for smalls
And even talls.
To live in a yurt ...
It couldn't hurt.
That's according to Gert.
Harry and I were wondering what did we do to keep cool when we were kids because we didn't have air conditioners.
Here are some of the things we remembered.
Taking a dip in the cold creek.
Laying on cool grass.
Coasting down a hill on a bicycle for a breeze.
Turning on the garden hose and enjoying the spray until your mom or dad yelled at you for wasting water.
But even the hottest day of summer never had us wishing for the cooler days of autumn because that would mean we were back in school. Yuk!