I’ve never complained about the heat in Texas, I let others do it for me contented to find air-conditioned buildings that help to ward off the 100 degree weather;
Grocery stores, libraries, the theatre, my car…you get my drift.
For the last six years we’ve been out of state for June, July and August.
We’ve either been chilling in London where a few days’ heat wave and a couple of sunny weeks without rain (not consecutively mind you) counts as a Glorious Summer.
Or enjoying the tropical rains and lower evening temperatures of a luscious Florida with canal breezes and rum punches.
This year we’re caught in a heat trap and the upper nineties are upon us even in June, which is still considered spring for the best part of the month.
The mercury has been dropping to a manageable mid-seventies during the night,
By then I’m in bed, kept cool by an overhead fan, far from the lower outdoor temperatures and the cry of the coyotes.
This year I’ve learned which flowers flourish in the consistent heat, lantana, nasturtium, zinnia, those yellow ones named after the sun and a rogue lettuce,
and those that don’t, hydrangea, gardenia, geranium, marigold and snap peas… at least not in the direct afternoon sun.
But come August nothing will thrive outside except cactus, rattlesnakes and mosquitoes.
I told Hubs,
“I don’t think I’m up to a Texas summer this year…”
The temperate climes of California, where my film-maker son lives, beckon and even the dreams of my bird keeping son and his wife of a cool Montana July are alluring.
“It’s the first time ever we’ve not had a pool,” I pointed out as Hubs and I leafed through old photo albums.
Our first pool was an above ground one that Hubs dug part way into the lawn.
I pointed to a picture of an 8 month Ian floating in the cool water with Pops, silly grins on their faces as they…well…floated!
Our next pool was a massive inflatable affair that looked as though a space ship had landed in our back garden… it was very ugly but it did the trick. We enjoyed romping and splashing in its rubber interior seeking shelter from the heat under the shade of an umbrella artfully angled from the deck over the refreshing body of water.
When Ian was eleven and the others were nine, seven and five, we invested in a Real Pool…
here we could lounge and dive, swim laps and chillax in the sparkling waters.
Pink oleander petals dotted the blue surface lending our suburban oasis a touch of paradise.
From May to October we were thoroughly spoiled.
As August progressed the once exhilarating waters grew tepid so we slung our pool cover overhead to keep the water crisp and inviting.
Ohh, that was the only way to survive the long dog days of summer.
Alas, this year there is no pool at Footlights, the temperatures are rising and I can’t help but wonder what I’ll look like when I eventually wilt into a soggy puddle at the foot of the live oak while watering my cactus among the rattlesnakes and mosquitoes?
Daughts invited friends to stay this weekend and one of them said,
“Great! I’ll bring a pool…” and she did!
The inventiveness of the young!!
And not such a bad idea either!
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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