Feel the Heat

It's hot today. You've probably noticed. The heat and I are old friends, but I think it's starting to sour.

A coworker steps out into the sun, we talk about the heat.
How far do you have to go?
Only six miles. Got my one bottle of water, that should get me there.
I saw someone out jogging in this stuff. Sheesh. He walks off and lights up a cigarette.

Riding along, I debate whether the heat is at Texas levels. I think it's close. It would be dead on if the breeze went away. I wonder if anyone is doing any hard and fast training rides today.

The sun has accomplished something that no amount of charm, good looks, smooth talk, or spell casting can do; force each and every woman around to peel off their long sleeves, hoodies (a true Portland fashion item), and long pants. The sun has been doing it all week.

At home, Wifey-Do is not sitting at the porch. The windows are closed and the air conditioning is on. Her dog has flopped on the floor, and lays motionless, like a doll. His eyes look at me, but he's too hot to wag his tail.