At some point, things get so ridiculous that you can't help blogging about the weather. It's possibly the least interesting topic in blogdom, unless you have pictures of the country's largest hailstones to show off. But when it dominates your day, what choice do you have?
So it's hot here. I live in the Southeast, so for most of you who have seen a weather map in the last week, that's not big news. It's really hot, though, even for here; temps were forecast at 106 today. I've lived here 10 years, and I've seen some hot spells. I've seen seemingly endless stretches of July days where the extended forecast had three digits every single day. What we're having now is a spike up to unheard-of levels, a spike in a long stretch of upper 90's weather reaching back a month or so.
Last year's summer was the nicest I can remember since we arrived. Temperatures stayed in the low 90's or below, and rain was regular throughout the season. Quite a contrast to the previous few summers, when we went whole months without moisture and when oven-baked temperatures persisted week after week.
So perhaps it's only fair that we're broiling on high heat right now. And frankly, as undeniably hot as it is, I feel like it could be worse. I measure the heat with a highly subjective gauge: When I get in my car at the end of a work day, can I bear to touch the steering wheel? Even though the numbers on the weather reports are singularly alarming, no day has yet failed the steering wheel test. The wheel is hot but not unbearable, which is more than I can say for the hottest days I remember in Arkansas. I don't have any scientific explanation for the failure of my steering wheel to rise to hand-burning temperatures, but I know that it does make me feel like I'm not yet living in the Arkansas desert.