I Hate Hot Weather. Hate It.

Today was another hot — over 90 degrees, day here on the prairie, with humidity to match. Oh, I had soooo many plans for today. Hah.

I don’t know how people exist in the southeast of this country — you know, the Carolinas, Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama: the places where it’s great weather for kudzu, but bad weather for eye makeup. I have beloved friends who live there who make great lives for themselves, whether it be in business, cooking or writing. They’ve managed to keep their brains and energies intact, when today I felt mine slipping away. My mother gave my tiny daughter a science book called “You’re Dumber in the Summer” which explained how the higher the temp, the slower the cerebral cortex.William  Faulkner, Dave Scantland, Brooks Hamacker, Rachel Dulsey and Eudora Welty are swell examples of peeps who haven’t descended to the status of sweaty morons because of the weather, but I’m not. I’m dumber in the summer.

A caveat: It really isn’t the heat, it’s the humidity. In Southern California it can be 95, but with the breeze and the face wrinkling heat, to say nothing of the cool nights and the wind off the Pacific, I can handle it. In fact I love it.But here in the Chicago burbs it was very hot and nasty muggy. I will post pix of my cats attempting to find some cool. You really don’t want to know what I looked like. Sweaty lemming crossed with Medusa.

Ajax making one of his rare daylight appearances, his tummy resting on cool grass. He can hide under the hostas if he’s scared, which is mostly.

At mid day, Willow chose a pragmatic place. (and yes, the State of Illinois did send me that random plate.)

So how did a cheap and cheerful Chicago girl of Canadian heritage get  though this day? Well, I reminded myself of my Northern superiority: in wintertime you can add clothes. In summertime naked is naked, and it doesn’t make you one bit cooler. There’s no other layer to strip.

So I planted this morning and just about passed out. Then I showered with lovely Florentine soap and changed into a  –skirt!  Single, married or divorced ladies  : we don’t have to go bifurcated! Wear bare  legs, and a loose skirt. Catch the breeze.

Then I hung out in the A/C at  Walgreens and bought stuff I mostly needed. The PO was cool, and I bought a sheet of postcard stamps. I checked skirt patterns and my cotton stash: a summer skirt is a true cheap and cheerful thing. So is a shower. But no hair products will ever tame my crazy hair in humid weather.

Greenland is looking pretty good right now. So is a bath with my homemade lavender bath salts. And a long glass of pear cider.



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11 responses to “I Hate Hot Weather. Hate It.

  1. Lloyd

    Oh, thanks for the kitty photos to add to my collection of 2 Willow pix. Yay, Ajax, for braving the sun!

  2. Jason

    There has to be a point though where humidity doesn’t matter. I remember being in Phoenix with “no humidity” and 116 degrees still was a wee bit too hot for me.

  3. Well, duh, dear J! When it’s 116 degrees you head for the saloon and have a beer. Humidity or not, 116 is just nuts, especially for a Trifluviene like moi.

  4. Oh, My.

    I cannot process this—sandwiched right in there between Mr. William and Dave and Brooks and Dear Miss Welty—I have no words.


    • Pish and tush, Rachel. You’re a terrific Southern Writer. I don’t have the natural charm you Southern Writers do, but I’m, not say, a Canadian writer like Margaret Atwood. I’m a freak. I’ve always felt like a stranger, wherever I’ve lived. And well, thasso K.

  5. Majorly JEALOUS of that license plate!!!

    Oh and sry about the heat.

  6. Wow. I’ve never been Pished or Tushed, and now coming from an expert—just wow.

    Natural charm—that belongs to them as are natural-born storytellers, with a plot and a plan and a reason for the words.

    Mine just pour out like bb’s on linoleum, making for the nearest corner or dip in the floor.

    Dayum, Maggie—you act like you’re some kinda mutt with no place to be, like Churchill said of Bossom: ” . . . neither one thing nor the other.”

    You may not be a true-life Southerner, but you meet all the requirements for a purentee hanky-carryin’, bourbon-sippin’, little bit of jukin’ G.R.I.T.S. Girl, and I sure lak a way you tawk.

  7. Kim Shook

    Chicago was both the coldest and the hottest place I’ve ever been in. I honestly don’t know how that’s possible, but it is.

  8. Kim: I don’t know how it’s possible either, but you’re right. It’s nuts. You have to have a car packed for a polar expedition in the winter and full-on Atlanta/Houston A/C in the summer. Geez.

    Well, maybe that’s why Chicagoans are so tough.

  9. SourGrapes

    I even think Southern California is too hot for me. That book, though…”higher the temp, the slower the cerebral cortex”…it does explain why I run into so many idiots here. 🙂 I’ve never met so many people that don’t even have a high school diploma much less a college degree. It’s sort of depressing. People have told me that a Midwest person like myself moves too slow, but hey, at least my brain moves fast. I am not moving fast and making bad mental decisions, like, should I drink more? I swear, everyone here drinks like it is going out of style and they start young…and their parents don’t seem to mind. My parents would have grounded me if I would have drank if I was younger. I never did. Here, it seems ok to smoke pot and drink all the time, even if you are a teenager. It’s sort of boring really…it doesn’t let people develop hobbies. It’s sad.

    I can’t even imagine being in the Deep South during the summer. I was in New Orleans in January and it was too hot for me! I loved the city though. I love the buildings of the south and its sense of history, especially in more European looking older cities like New Orleans, but man, is it hot!

    It’s funny because when I lived in the northern Midwest, it was the hottest and coldest place I’ve even been. I agree with Kim. But at least it gets cold there and has season. Here the days are always hot and the same. It’s so hot here that I get skin rashes even on days that are 75 degrees. I’ve missed snow too, which people laugh at when I say it…but Christmas without snow is a real bummer, man. 🙂

    Arizona is way too hot too…when people tell me a 115 degree day it ok because it’s a dry heat…ummm….it’s like being in a big oven. If you like being inside your oven when it is turned up to 400 degree, then you might like Arizona.

    Oh yeah, forgot to say I am a writer too and I was more inspired living in the Midwest, being in the same weather with a lot of people who never graduated high school doesn’t make you feel super creative. 🙂 I know there have to be more people with degrees here, but it seems “natives” here who are so proud to be native, tend not to have college or high school degrees. I’ve met so many of them. And it is funny because these superior “natives” who blame all their problems on people like me who moved here to get job that the company needed to bring people from other areas to here in order to fill those positions are usually only a first generation native, like their parents moved to Southern California when their parents were 30 years old. It’s sort of laughable. It isn’t like they are Native Americans or any other people who lived in that area for centuries. I don’t think people out here have historical knowledge that extends past the 1960s as well. So maybe being native for only twenty years is a really long time…I blame the sun for making them stupid.

    Someone I knew here got Canadian messed up with Columbian. So hey, people here might address you as Columbian since their brains have fried in the heat. 🙂 But that is what I am up against.

  10. SourGrapes

    I forgot a couple S’s. On season and degree…heat makes me tired and stupid…see?

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