100 degree + temperatures before 8:00 in the morning fry my brain. Yesterday we moved some boxes to a container and apparently it was 115 degrees with 130 degree heat index and those numbers felt good when we stepped out of the container. To quote my daughter, “It was hard to breathe in there.”
So here is what I was able to come up with for the blog today.
Remembering cooler days, across the border. A rainy Somaliland day.
Happy, high-and-dry-heat June, when a hair dryer blasting sand into our eyes is what it feels like outside. Please don’t say, “Yeah, but its a dry heat.” It is a dry heat. A dry heat in which it is hard to breathe and that makes me thirsty the second I step out of an air-conditioned room. To be honest, I actually don’t mind the heat this year. Probably that is because the power cuts have been minimal. And I try to convince myself that it is a like a constant hug or like being wrapped up in a quilt. Or maybe I really am acclimating. Or maybe I’m just happy the humidity and constant dripping is over until September.
Now I’m off to find myself some frozen watermelon cubes…