(Here is a link to the musical accompaniment for this post.)
TBG and I are the only people left in Tucson this weekend. The roads are empty, and I wonder why I sit at the corner, waiting for my left turn arrow, when there is not another car in sight, not as far as I can see, miles in all four directions, stretching out to the mountains surrounding the city. No police, no ambulances, no dusty 4-wheelers or over-long moving trucks. Just The Nose and me, waiting for the light to change.
The gym was empty, ESPN was rerunning the hot dog eating contest, and the juice bar was closed. I'm in a time warp, stuck between a three day weekend and the summertime blues.
Amster took the kids to San Diego, the Cheese's won't arrive til next week, and G'ma thinks it is just too damn hot to do anything outdoors. I've promised her that the tram ride up Sabino Canyon will be cool, but getting there feels like too much work for her. I'd be worried about her lack of enthusiasm, but I'm convinced it's the heat that is doing her in.
Miss Marjorie had time sensitive projects and was unable to hike. Our hiking choices are limited to those we can find at the top of Mt. Lemmon, where the temperatures are cooler and the options more palatable. But the 25 mile drive up the Catalina Highway makes her queasy in the best of times, and the summer sunshine heating up the windows adds to her misery; I think we're waiting for the fall before we set out again.
Instead, we're planning a road trip. MTF and I are considering a visit to NYC and Long Island in August. G'ma and I are headed to LA for the wedding in 3 weeks. I want to visit San Francisco and Chicago to see the Cuters again. But this is all in the future. Right now, I'm sitting at the desk, watching the bunnies, and feeling fried.
The National Weather Service may have decided that our monsoon season began on June 15th, but we're still waiting for rain. Mr. 5 and Mr. 7 and I were "drenched" on our way into Barnes and Noble last week - all together we counted about 10 raindrops on our arms. None got into our mouths, though we stood there like baby birds waiting for them. We all agreed that it was too hot to walk back from Wally-World, but what was our choice? We didn't want to live in the parking lot. So we shlepped and shlumped and dragged our overheated selves back to The Nose. Air conditioning never felt so good.
I was in the pool, on the float with TBG, arms across the top, legs dangling in the water, when we decided that it was just as hot in the water as it was out on the lounge chairs. Solar heat alone has raised the pool's temperature to 950. The moorea lilies have given up the ghost, and the bunnies have eaten my jalapeno plant. Tohono Chul's Bloom Watch is days away -- the night blooming cereus are running a bit behind schedule this year. Perhaps they are as overwhelmed by the heat as we humans are.
The sun is shining, but the gardening will have to wait until Fall. The ground is too hot for tender roots to take hold. Ernie is coming this week to take out the lilies. I'll put them in pots and water them faithfully and wait til the weather cools before I sprinkle them around my yard. This transplanting trick worked in Marin; I've been less successful here in the desert southwest. I should prepare the potting soil, but it's just way too hot.
So I sit, inside, thinking of the things I could do were it only 20 degrees cooler.