It’s hot
June 26, 2012 (Tuesday)
Yesterday I parked my car outside at around 10:30 a.m. and came back to it three hours later, around 1:30. When I opened the door and entered the vehicle, I could not touch anything without being burned. Literally. Burned. The temperature was nearing 100 degrees outside, and I cannot guess how hot it was inside the car.
This is nothing new. It happens every summer.
In recent months I have become acquainted by mail with a distant relative who now lives in Florida. Before his retirement, he lived in Minnesota. During the winter there, it was cold, cold, cold. As soon as he retired, he sought a warmer climate, and found it in southern Florida.
So why am I complaining about the heat here in beautiful Rockport? I don’t know, but when I open the door to my car and burn my hand on the first thing I touch inside it, I just feel it’s appropriate to complain. It’s really nice, however, to see the sun rise over the water each morning, and it’s lovely in late afternoon when the sea breeze delivers natural cooling. If I have to choose between too cold or too warm, I’ll take warm. With a few cool breezes, if you please.
