It’s officially both hot and summer in Las Vegas. Summer ushered in yesterday with the solar solstice, and since living here I’ve learned that it is not considered officially hot until it’s 105 degrees Fahrenheit or hotter. But it is a dry heat.
Next week Mary and I will sojourn to Lincoln, Nebraska to spend some time with her mother, and I’m already dreading the humidity that will more than likely triple to quintuple what we experience here in the desert. Not only does such high humidity make things like taking a shower a rather fruitless endeavor, but it spawns a myriad of pests like mosquitoes and gnats. Only getting to be with my mother-in-law for the Fourth of July will make it all worth it.
While attending school in Nebraska it was suggested that it would be a perfect destination for terminally ill patients because those with only six months to live would feel like it was six years. I normally try to refrain from such derogatory remarks, but I must admit that I’m looking forward to my eight-day vacation seeming like I was gone for as many weeks.
Join me, please, in hoping that Mary doesn’t read this before I get home for supper tonight.
You can't be blamed for the way you feel about Nebraska. I mean, come on, it's NEBRASKA:). I hope you and Mary enjoy your time away, even if you do come back all sticky and covered in mosquito bites.
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