I was informed by “AccuWeather” that today’s forecast high temperature would be 99 degrees Fahrenheit. But it was further stated that it would feel like 114 degrees Fahrenheit! Now I once spent a summer in California and we did several times reach 114 degrees. And as far as I can remember this was nothing like that. 99 degrees at 100 percent humidity and 114 degrees with bone dry air feel nothing alike. One is a blast furnace and the other is a steam room. So, what is the sense of this scare temperature of 114? The weather dweebs on my local cable provider were running in circles warning of impending climate catastrophe and exhorting me to shelter in place. I was especially amused by New York’s Mamdani begging his citizens to protect themselves from the heat but also commanding them not to set their air conditioners below 78 degrees. Apparently, the electrical grid in New York is experiencing brown outs and everything must be done to avoid a black out during Taylor Swift’s upcoming nuptials at Madison Square Garden. Something tells me that the wedding party will be excused from obeying the 78-degree mandate. Can’t have a middle aged pop diva sweating at her wedding. Think of the poor groom!
So, I finished off the rest of the lawn this morning with my push mower and as soon as the gas tank emptied, I changed the oil on that little Briggs and Stratton powered trash mower. This will buy me some time until the tubing for draining off the oil from my riding mower arrives from my friends at Amazon.com (tomorrow they say). I had to suspend the mower upside down and at an angle to avoid something to do with the spark plug and I looked distinctly goofy holding it in that position. But I only spilled a couple of drops and voila! She sounds as good as new (sorta).
As I was watering the plants in the pool area, I saw a little frog jump in so I fished him out with the pool net and threw him into Camera Girl’s Pond. Now this was slightly after her evening feeding frenzy so as soon as he fell in, there was a boiling, bubbling panic around him and he jumped straight out into the high grass behind the pond. Well, he probably did the right thing. If he wanders back into the swimming pool, he can take solace from the knowledge that being chlorinated to death is a quiet peaceful end compared to being hacked to bits by the Piranha Brothers.
Tomorrow we will have Princess Sack of Potatoes and her parents here to swim in the pool before all of the grandkids head off for a week by the seaside. A little rest and relaxation for us is good but it will be a bit quiet without them. This week I sat through several hours of Scooby Doo cartoons that I’ve already seen too many times and Sonic the Hedgehog 2 which I probably could have skipped too but with them there enjoying this ridiculous entertainment I kind of felt like part of the gang. Which is pretty cool.
