We’re on our 30th day in a row of 90+ heat and that’s as good an excuse as any for not having a single good idea to write about. My draft file is littered with one-paragraph wonders that start off promising and then dwindle into mundane caca.
I could tell you about our canoe trip last weekend, which was great fun, but since we didn’t even turn over, there’s not much to say. We did see a muskrat, lots of fish, two buzzards and, thankfully, no snakes. I saw lots of sticks posing as snakes, but none of the real thing. Every time we went under a tree, I’d hunker down a little in anticipation of one dropping off a branch into the canoe. Every time we pulled over to swim, I’d be extra vigilant–watching the murky water for any slinky ripples coming my way.
I could tell you about my recently published cover story (second in a row) for one of the magazines I write for. It’s an alumni magazine, so unless you went to a swanky private Southern university, you won’t see it. But it was fun–I interviewed sports writers who went to the school and ended up talking to guys from the New York Times, Sports Illustrated and ESPN, among others. As a sports fan myself, it was a lot of fun to do. Plus, it was my own idea and the editor let me go with it.
I guess I could tell you about the trips we are planning, but the first one is still incubating and the other one isn’t until next year. Still, nice to have those to look forward to.
Or I could tell you about having found the perfect entertainment for your child’s next birthday party or that corporate outing you’re planning:
Really, what I need is to be shed of August. It really is the worst month. Long. Hot. Boring. I’m tired of sandals. Tired of ironing all my cotton clothes. Tired of having my house hermetically sealed so as not to let any of my expensive cooled air out.
What I really want is to open the windows and feel a breeze. Right now if you go out side you basically feel like your head is swathed in a giant, wet beach towel. Every breath is like sucking on wet cotton balls. Nothing flourishes in this weather but katydids and fruit flies.
I want to use my oven. I want to cook a pot roast, bake a chicken and wear a sweater.
Two more weeks and then August 2010 will be done forever.
September will still be hot, but at least there will be a hint of cooler air.