The end of July. It is 80° F first thing in the morning. Too hot and humid to go on the exercise bike for 38 minutes, the way I do most days. Even though we have Eva, our AC unit, in the living room, there’s a limit to what she can cool. The exercise bike is at the other end of the house, away from the lovely Eva.
The heat is supposed to break on Wednesday. Until then, I’ll skip the exercise bike. The road to nowhere can wait.
Fortunately, as Judy from NewEnglandGardenAndThread noted, the flowers don’t mind the heat.
The daylilies continue to punctuate my mostly green yard with bursts of different colors.
Tootlepedal, here’s a yellow one for you.
Knowing we can depend on Eva to bring the temperature down inside, Clif and I brave the heat and humidity to have drinks and appetizers on the patio.
Little Miss Watson gets her own drink.
And Bertie, the flying pig, is surrounded by blossoms.
Readers, it surely has been the strangest summer we’ve ever had. It seems endless, as though we have been suspended in some kind of hothouse heat trap. Part of me wishes it would end, and then another part of me thinks ahead to colder weather when there will be no drinks on the patio, and Clif and I will be mostly inside.
There is a bright note to all this. Because of all the biking I’ve been doing—and the weight I’ve been losing—my knees are getting better. As soon as it’s too chilly to sit on the patio, I’ll dust off my sneakers and start going for walks at least a few days a week.
The walks won’t substitute for going out and about around town, for visiting with friends, for having family come to stay. But at least I’ll see something besides the inside of the house.
After all, there’s a limit, even for a homebody.