How Hot Was It
... at the beach yesterday?
So hot that, while standing in the Atlantic ocean before plunging under, I felt almost as wet from sweat from the waist up as I did from the waist down.
So hot that I swear I could have made sun tea from originally ice-cold water bottles left in the vehicle after just 15 minutes, and cans of soda pop went flat as we held them.
So hot that the shampoo and body washes in the roomy beachhouse shower (outside, but under a deck, completely out of the sun, and wide open at top and bottom to catch the usually cooling breeze) were literally hot poured from the bottle, and the rich, thick conditioner had liquefied almost to the point of clarity.
So hot that the blood-drawing, biting flies, brought in on the hot wind emanating from the bay side (usually it blows in reverse), seemed to fall prostrate afterward from the effort (though, believe me, they managed to rise again to torture anew).
Cole Porter weather, indeed!
So hot that, while standing in the Atlantic ocean before plunging under, I felt almost as wet from sweat from the waist up as I did from the waist down.
So hot that I swear I could have made sun tea from originally ice-cold water bottles left in the vehicle after just 15 minutes, and cans of soda pop went flat as we held them.
So hot that the shampoo and body washes in the roomy beachhouse shower (outside, but under a deck, completely out of the sun, and wide open at top and bottom to catch the usually cooling breeze) were literally hot poured from the bottle, and the rich, thick conditioner had liquefied almost to the point of clarity.
So hot that the blood-drawing, biting flies, brought in on the hot wind emanating from the bay side (usually it blows in reverse), seemed to fall prostrate afterward from the effort (though, believe me, they managed to rise again to torture anew).
Cole Porter weather, indeed!
