I am so ready to go home to Mississippi. I always get that way fairly quickly anymore. You know the story: my own bed, dog, Internet, air conditioning...
I have only been one place out of five where it has been cool enough since we arrived in Texas. It's not that I think people should accommodate me if they want their house to be 76, or 88, or 80, or 65 (yes, this was the place where I was comfortable) or 92. It's just that right now, I cannot really tolerate it warmer than 70 without being sick and miserable. It is related to medication adjustment and I hope it passes soon;in the meantime, cold is the only thing making it tolerable.
Mississippi was in the three digits when we left J and Rex in charge of the dogs and house and headed south west. Those three digits were numbers like 102 and 104, however. We are in triple digits here, too: today, I watched the thermometer on the back deck crawl its way to 127 by 5 pm before it began to drop. It was a chilly 97 by 10 pm.
Growing up in the arid hot summers of west Texas, this is not a surprise, but somehow I was not really prepared for it. As a matter of note, the first day did not seem all that bad--not humid like Mississippi and I was handling it fine. Then the non-stop headache from bright sun unfiltered by the tall green pines--a scrubby little mesquite provides little shade,and while welcome as rain in August, highly insufficient to cool 112 or more degrees--and the heat nausea were next. Continous consumption of water, but still feeling hot and dry because of excessive perspiring, and I am ready to head east to the piney woods. Green grass (not brown and withered like little bits of straw) and shaded yards (not sun beating down mercilessly baking everything until the shimmering heat rising begins to seem surreal), sleep in a room that is 68 degrees, shower without breaking a sweat, and only need my normal 8-10 glasses of water: now that's what I'm talking about.