Melting

Late Wednesday night, I stumbled into my house after 34 hours on the train, and another hour waiting for and riding local Seattle rail and bus.  My cats had been visited and fed twice a day during my absence, and they had no legitimate reason to complain.  They greeted me coolly but correctly, accepted a third meal as part of my greeting and apology, gave me some small displays of affection, and then slipped out the cat door for a night on the town.

As you all know, I had been visiting with relatives in Oxnard, a beach town about an hour's drive north of Los Angeles.  The daily weather was consistent: highs of 66, lows in the low 60s, no rain but constant overcast.  "June Gloom," I'm told.  The weather reminded me of childhood visits to the beach up here in the Northwest, and I actually enjoyed it.

Upon my return, however, I've been greeted by forecasts of Temperature Armageddon.  Today, we had a high of 90.  Tomorrow, the high will be 95.  Sunday, 100. 

And Monday?  One hundred eight (108) degrees Fahrenheit (42 degrees C.).  Lows in the low 70s.

I don't think we've ever suffered from a temperature that high in Seattle.  I can't remember the last time we had a temperature of even 100, certainly not in June.

I find myself lethargic and irritable in today's heat.  I can't conceive of how I'll feel when it's 18 degrees hotter.  But I guess I'll soon find out.  I have no air conditioning.  I have no swimming pool.  We in the Northwest Corner have always prided ourselves on never needing such decadent modern conveniences.  We even sneer at newcomers who open up umbrellas when it rains.

Well, it won't be raining this week.  In my home town, in Southwest Washington, it's even worse.  They're looking at an anticipated high of 111 degrees on Sunday.  

A landscaper just installed a new hedge for me on Thursday.  "Keep it well-watered.  Daily!" he admonished me.  He had seen many signs that diligence in garden care wasn't my strong point.  Oh well.  I'm about to go out and water it now.  In 90 degree evening heat. 

Does human flesh melt?  I wonder.