The heat is on in
—103 degrees yesterday. This morning, a fellow walker greeted me on the park path and declared the temperature reading in his car had flashed 95 degrees. Since it wasn't yet , I'm pretty sure the spike was caused by the sun beating down on the vehicle. "We have to start walking at six," he said. Then he shook his head. "Make that five." Humidity City
Earlier, one of my cats had slipped outside when I opened the door to collect the newspaper. He stopped short in the middle of the driveway, turned, and ran back into the house. When it's too hot outside for a desert animal, it's too hot.
Houstonians take their hydration seriously. Big Gulps are wedged into the cup holders of cars and trucks, and people carry bottled water, iced Starbucks or iced tea wherever they go from early June into October. Yes, we've got to kick the sugary-drink habit, but don't take our super sizes away.
Yesterday, I pulled into an office-building parking lot, and gaped at an empty spot in the shade of a sheltering tree. I turned the steering wheel so hard it whimpered but snagged the space. Score! Two hours later, I returned to find my car covered in bird droppings. The building's tenants and visitors had avoided that tree for a reason.
Enough moaning! Summer taketh our energy-level with the heat, then giveth back our zippety-do-dah via peaches, berries, mangoes and melons--and ice cream, sorbets, and paletas. Ice-cold watermelon is my go-to dessert when the heat index climbs above 100.
Help out an easily wilted writer. How do you beat the summer heat?