California, which is where I live, usually has some pretty nice weather. 80 degrees and sunny, just enough humidity so your tongue doesn’t shrivel up, it’s lovely. California has a perfect climate.
Unfortunately, the bit of California I’m in didn’t get the message. It’s been hovering at 90 with occasional drops to 88 or rises to 95 for the past week or so, and our house doesn’t have an air conditioner. As you can imagine, this is hell.
Jade, who is apparently part vampire, refuses to go outside for fear of burning. Spawn wants to always be outside, and is more fussy than usual because he’s sick of the heat. Ender appears not to notice when he comes up for air between computer times. I do stupid things like go biking in the heat and then drag myself home dehydrated and sunburnt.
The other day, I saw a Muslim woman with a black headwrap and floor-length, long-sleeved black dress, and almost passed out in sympathy.
When Dad got home from work yesterday, he paused in the doorway, swore loudly, and said
“We need to get out of this house.”
So he took us all for ice cream and a long, pointless drive in an air conditioned car, after which we came home to our baking house refreshed.
(Incidentally, green tea ice cream is surprisingly delicious and extremely refreshing.)