Something has actually changed.  After four years in New Orleans, I am hating the summers less.  A small miracle!

I’ve slowed down a lot.  I’m wearing cotton and linen more.  I bought rain boots.  I structure my days around the air conditioning during those scorching, mid-afternoon hours.

Maybe I’ve adjusted my expectations a bit, too.   Last year, with a record number of days that never went below 90 degrees, helped me with that, and now I’m just grateful when it gets into the 70s at night.

I’ve learned to almost weigh the air with my body, feeling for any slight, cooler ripples that might exist within the dominant heat, and appreciating them.

The month of October will be the test, since, after all, it is still August.  Even I expect blazing hot days during this month.

But when it starts to transition to fall in earnest up north, that will be the challenge.  Especially with the unnatural appearance of mums, pumpkins, and other cultural cues of fall, despite the lack of any actual change in the weather.

So far, so good!




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