Summer in April.

1. A device perforated with small holes that is attached to a garden hose or watering can and used to spray plants, lawns, etc, with water. – Collins Dictionary1
2. What I spent half my childhood running through, giggling like a moron. – The Nut

It’s been motherfuckin’ Mordor out there lately, people.

We had several straight days of oppressive, record-shattering hottitude this past week. We hit temperatures that would normally be hard to come by in this city even on a sun-soaked July afternoon. During the apocalypse.

As I’m sure I’ve mentioned several times before, Nutty don’t do heat.2

I’d been planning on making my grand return to the gym this week – the previous week being spent recovering from running all over Japan – but the sweaty drive home from work on Monday convinced me that leaving the apartment again for anything other than ice cream was flat-out just a bad idea.

So I spent the rest of the afternoon scarfing down Drumsticks and playing Mortal Kombat X.

Tuesday was worse, but I ventured outside anyway because I’m in the middle of a Project 365 challenge on my photography blog, and unfortunately finding new and interesting things to take pictures of every day means you sometimes have to actually go out and look for them like a real person, no matter how much you would rather just flop down on your couch and hope something magically comes to you instead.

Even in shorts and the most barely-there burnout tee I own, I was still a big sweaty mess within .271 seconds of stepping out the door.

A couple of blocks from my building, the manager of another building was busy spraying down the lawn with a garden hose. He muttered something in a thick accent as I approached, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

“Sorry?” I asked when I got nearer.

He gestured to the spray nozzle in his hand and grinned. “You want shower? One dollar.”

If I hadn’t had a very expensive arsenal of decidedly non-waterproof (ask me how I know!) camera equipment dangling from my shoulder, I might have been tempted to take him up on that.

Years ago, when I still lived in my childhood neighborhood, my best friend Katie and I would stick the garden sprinkler under her trampoline on hot summer days and then just stay on there all afternoon, bouncing and sunning ourselves.

Suddenly I really missed that fucking sprinkler.

By Wednesday I wanted like anything to just go float in a pool until nightfall. But lucky for me, the organizers of Vancouver’s annual 4/20 “pot protest” had elected to hold this year’s illegal smokefest literally right fucking beside the aquatic centre where I swim. As there were concerns raised about the facility potentially suffering from a mild case of hotbox-itis, the pool was closed down for the day.


Instead I sat naked in front of the oscillating fan in our living room, periodically spritzing myself with a plant mister.

Thursday was still uncomfortably warm, but I had to stay fully clothed because we had friends over and protocol dictates that the hostess of the party should never be the first one to start stripping.

And then today came. Friday. T to the G to the I to the motherfucking F.

Friday brought me rain. Sweet, glorious, sanity-restoring rain! Halle-son-of-a-lujah. I may not have a sprinkler or a trampoline or a yard to put them in, but at least the sky’s still got my back.

The weather’s supposed to be crappy all weekend, and that’s just fine by me.

The less temptation to join the dollar shower club, the better.

Today’s blog post was brought to you by the letter S, the number 16, and the Hose Me Down Like One Of Your French Girls Challenge, AKA the Blogging A to Z Challenge.

1 “sprinkler” Collins Dictionary, 2016. Web. 22 April 2016.
2 And before all you folks from the Southern states tell me I wouldn’t know what real heat was if it hit me with a frying pan, I know. That’s the point. That’s how much Nutty don’t do heat.

8 thoughts on “Summer in April.

  1. I absolutely hate hot weather too. It was painful even just reading about how hot it is where you are.
    Here in the southern hemisphere, I’m eagerly awaiting the beginning of winter. It could not come soon enough!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I just spent a week at a beach several hundred miles to the south of where I am now and it was colder there than it is here. Go figure. The cooler weather was not only more pleasant it made me feel less guilty about all the fried seafood I ate.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love heat — but I don’t like hot (if that makes sense). If I had to choose between being too hot or too cold, I’d always pick the too cold — because you can always layer up or climb into a cozy, warm bed — but trying to cool down is sometimes impossible (ie: in the middle of a raging hot flash in the summer).

    Liked by 1 person

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