The Mystery Starts Here

Yesterday the temperature at my house reached a staggering 109 degrees! Yes, too damn hot. Just what do you do when the weather reaches triple digits? If you’re like me, you turn on the air-conditioning, grab a dog, curl up and read a book. Of course even I can’t read ALL day. So, what do you do?

I’m a writer, so I record how I feel in weather like this. I’m working on a book that takes place in Oklahoma, so this weather is perfect for using my senses. I woke in the night to a burning sensation in my throat. If felt like I’d swallowed sand. My skin is dry and tight from too many showers and not enough moisture in the air. Then my skin becomes sticky from slathering lotion on my body and I jump in the shower and start the process all over again. My eyes burn, blur and water. The hot dry air blows junk my orbs irritating them. My nose runs constantly. I look like a coke addict. It’s kind of hard to write notes in my little book when I can’t see, but I try.

Did you go to the beach this weekend? How does that blazing hot sand feel on your winter-soft feet? Is the ocean warm yet? Or does it snatch the breath out of your chest when you dive in because it’s so frigid. Is your hair a tangled mess caked with salt from the ocean? Can you feel it bleaching while your ends split? Can you feel the burn of the blistering sun on your poor proboscis? Write it all down. You may never use any of these feelings, but if you need them some day you’ll have them recorded.

How about a swimming pool? Are you lucky enough to have one in the back yard? I lust after a pool when the weather is this hot. Then I sober up and remember what a huge pain in the butt a pool can be. Yes, it’s a lot of work and … I have two labs. If I had a pool, my house would always smell of Eau de dog - not nice.

It’s 10:00 A.M. and 97 degrees outside so I turned on the air-conditioner. That’s how I beat the summer heat. I just hope I won’t faint when the electric bill arrives.

Okay, I have to confess, I’m a people watcher. Nothing I love better than to sit in a quiet corner of a busy place and observe the great unwashed masses. One of my favorite places has always been airports. Boy, you see everything there, especially in the wee small hours of the night.  I haven’t been to an airport in a while, it’s no fun to travel anymore. I miss the good old days when I worked for North West Airlines and flew first class - everywhere. Remember the little four packs of Winston cigarettes on your tray? Linen cloths? Sterling silverware? Real china dishes? Steak, lobster, Champagne??? Let’s fact it, those days are gone, forever.

But I digress. I was talking about poeple watching. Today the hubby and I went to the fair! We go about every four years and that’s enough. I slathered my body in sunscreen, wore a hat and took as little to carry as possible, but made sure I had some 3×5 cards and a pen. Hey, I’m a writer, I go armed with the tools of my trade. Today I came back with a few character studies. There was the little old lady wearing a red T-shirt, red gauzy skirt down to her ankles, a huge multi-colored tote, silver tennies with a big purple hat. She was…interesting. I have no idea if she’ll ever turn up in one of my books, but I have a full description - right down to her fuzzy orange hair - in case she does.

As usual I was amazed at the number of people, men and women who wore flip-flops to the fair. Can you imagine a more uncomfortable footwear for miles of walking? And heels. I saw several women in high heels prompting me to say, HUH? Babies in strollers, people in wheelchairs, with canes and oxygen tanks. You see pretty much everything at the fair. We bought some junk, we ate some crap, I got some good character studies and had a wonderful time. That will hold us for another four years.