It's Not the Heat, it's the Humidity

Hot, Hot, Hot....

Almost nine years ago, we moved to New York from Texas, and I gloried in the cooler days and nights, the pleasant summers, the electric bills that did not rival the national debt (except in winter). So this year, we had a winter that DRAGGED on, a spring that was a soaker with very few walking days possible, and now, on June 1st, It's HOTTER THAN HELL. ACK.

Last night I work up at 5am, sweating in the sheets, and this was not a) menopause or peri-menopause or b) a little early morning honey-cuddling. Now, this was HEAT. I dragged myself out of bed, stabbed at the thermostat, trying to understand why the little light didn't come on. Eventually my whining woke the Hubster (which had been my devious plan when technology escapes me). He brought in a flashlight, adjusted the thermostat a fully nano-degrees and I climbed back under the sheets, sweating only a little less.

According to the weather center, it's 72 degrees at 9:19AM. Of course, I'm wearing two furry kitties around my neck, which might make things feel warmer than they actually are, but man….

Al Gore, forgive me for ever doubting you. Global warming is here, and it's HELL.

How's the weather in your neck of the woods? I heard Texas was getting some storms. The weather people say that the tornado season is mostly over, and now yes, wait for it, we start hurricane season.