The migraine has gone off, whimpering, into its corner, where I hope it will stay for ages and ages. Thanks for all the nice words and feel-betters yesterday!
I know at least one other Arizona blogger has mentioned how hot it is here (I’m thinking of Ann at Velvet Lava. Be sure to go read about her cell phone hickey.). Maybe all of you in the rest of the country will say “Yeah, yeah, it’s not the heat it’s the humidity that’s tough to take.” (And because I grew up in Missouri, I actually do believe that.)
But when it’s 110, it’s hot. I was out for most of the afternoon with Girl, and by the time I left the grocery store (errand #5) I was ready to go home and fill the bathtub with cold water and my prickly self.
And maybe I would have set my sights on that cold bath, if not for something the owner of Girl’s favorite store, The Princess Palace, said to me when I complained bitterly made a remark about the heat.
She said she could handle this kind of heat, because living here is better than being in parts of the Midwest right now, where her friend lost everything in the flooding. And it was better than being in parts of California, where wildfires are devouring the landscape. (We could have the fires here, too, but so far we’ve been lucky.) And, of course, we rarely see a tornado.
She reminded me that it’s not so bad to go from air-conditioned house to air-conditioned car to air-conditioned store and back again. “Believe me, I’ll take this kind of heat over any of that, any day.”
Her words didn’t cool me off, but I didn’t grumble about the heat for the rest of the day.
And how could I complain about any part of the afternoon I had? Boy was at a friend’s house, so Girl and I went out to lunch and got our nails done. And then she got to do some crafts at her favorite store. We did a couple of other errands, and it was a great afternoon. But there were moments when all I wanted was to go home and cool off (like when ohmygod I could barely touch the steering wheel even though I had the window shades in place while we were inside the nail place).
The woman in the store gave me some perspective that could have come off as a bit of tsk tsk, but didn’t. She had a steady bead on her own luck, and she let me look down the sight for a moment, too, to fix my aim on a better target. I felt properly (though cheerfully) chastened. Aside from a few squabbles between the kids, and some overall worries (which, let’s face it, will always be there, on some sort of rotating schedule), there was nothing actually difficult about my day. She set me straight.
I needed it.
And then I went home and drank an ice-cold beer.