What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.
– Jane Austen
So much for the cool, rainy Pacific Northwest that I was warned about. Today’s weather in Tacoma reached the upper 80s. Ugh.
What not to do on a hot summer’s day:
- Paint the bathroom. But that’s what we’re doing today. The little drops of paint that patter down onto my face are not refreshing. Neither is the smell.
- Cook a hot meal. But that’s what I’m doing today. You see, I’ve vowed to stop wasting food, and there are these odds and ends that would make great turkey burgers with a fresh tomato-pepper sauce, and a potato gratin to use up the leftover cream cheese and spinach dip. It’ll taste great in the cool basement.
- Try to think of something to write. Unless it involves murder. I’ll bet a lot of mystery novels get their start on an oppressively hot day. I’m not at all angry – in fact, I’m feeling quite mellow. And yet, wouldn’t it be thrilling to shake off this lethargy by doing away with someone who really needed doing away with? (In a strictly fictional sense, of course.)
- Garden work. I hear you slithering down onto the lawn, you big ol’ magnolia leaves, but I’m not going to rake you today. You can just lie there until you rot.
- Argue with your computer. Fine, you want to put the curser there, you miserable, second-guessing slab of electronic trash? Go ahead! Jump that curser all over the page! And then decide to turn my bullets into numbers – I’ll show you… Hey, perhaps a novel about a woman who goes berserk after arguing with her computer on a hot day, then poisons the sneering, unhelpful computer tech by feeding him a potato and death cap mushroom casserole, and then buries him out in the back yard under the pile of magnolia leaves!
- Oh, but corpses attract flies, and there are too many flies here already. Ah well.