Heat

After an up-and-down spring and a spotty early summer, Toronto’s now in full-blown heat mode. Weather-warning, too-hot-to-be-outside-without-feeling-a-little-nauseated heat.

I used to love luxuriating under the sun. Being uncomfortably warm was my preferred state: I felt a certain affinity toward camels, salamanders, and, of course, the mighty kangaroo rat. I inwardly rolled my eyes when people complained that it was too hot out. No such thing, fools, I’d think with totally unwarranted and unattractive condescension and superiority.

My body, however, has decided to make it very clear to me that “too hot” is, indeed, a thing, and not a thing from which I’m immune. Hence the extreme brevity of this post. A homemade strawberry popsicle is calling my name, and who’d I be to ignore it?