I'm Outta Here

See you in August.

Picture from Plan59

Bring On The Fans

When it's 104 degrees every day I look for ways to cool down. I start to go raving mad as well but I try to cool down at the same time.
Assuming I can get in the car without stripping sections from my epidermis (see previous post), a good thing to do is go to Amy's for an ice cream. I like the plain stuff - vanilla, strawberry, the Belgian chocolate is very good- and always have it neat. The Husband is more adventurous (or American) and goes for pecan, or peanut butter and then has things crushed into the ice cream, like peanut butter cups or cookies. This process is nice to watch, as the server kneads and bashes the concoction with a big stick.
There are tables under umbrellas outside but there is also a children's playground. Depending on the time of day I'll sometimes nip into Phil's Ice House next door for a quiet seat. As Phil's serves what is currently my favourite burger in town (The Rosedale) the whole thing can happen in reverse.

Outdoor-types go to Barton Springs pool for a swim or head for the Colorado River but I don't do the swimming/bicycling thing. My method is to avoid the sun altogether by hopping from place to place: ice cream parlour, dark bar, thrift store. Or stay put- close the blinds, set the fans to warp factor.....and watch telly. Cooling things to view include Jeanne Moreau jumping into the Seine (@ 1.00), Ice Station Zebra' and, from beginning to end, no cheating -'Ice-Cold In Alex'. After which I have a beer from the fridge.

Things to avoid doing in this heat include all forms of cleaning and cooking, going in the garage for any reason, chasing mosquitoes, and watching films containing Method acting. All that cringing and loping. Too exhausting.

How do you cool off?

The Big Sweaty

I burned my hand on the steering wheel of the car. Then I turned up the volume of the music so the neighbors wouldn't hear me as I sat in the drive, screaming. I presume they like Slim Gaillard.

Austin didn't bother with Spring but scooted straight into summer temperatures - 100 Fahrenheit or 38 Celsius. To torment myself I study a graph of averages for this time of year which tells me I can go ahead and add 10 degrees to anything the weather "should" be doing from now until the globe shrivels.
Temperatures during the night are the kind that send UK newspapers into exclamation summer headlines such as "Scorcher!". Except it's dark and you can't open a window.
You can't open a window because that would let the broth in. The broth is something that resembles air and for four months a year it has to be kept out of the house. We breath by inhaling dubious a/c vapours that are constantly fluffed about by squeaking ceiling fans.

If you must visit Austin in June, July, August or September remember:

Don't leave your make-up in the car. It will melt. And you know those round mini- cheeses, wrapped in red wax? Don't leave those in the car either, especially if you have leather interiors.

Buy a windscreen sun shield. Try to remember to hoist it up before you leave the car.

Don't go out at dawn or dusk unless you are wearing a bee-keeper's suit. There are 55 species of mosquito in Texas, they are the size of British houseflies or bluebottles and I haven't heard a single one buzz a warning yet.

Don't go out after dawn or before dusk. That stuff about mosquitoes only biting at dawn and dusk is baloney.

Vacuum furniture regularly. The venomous Recluse spider likes furniture.

Apply sun block, the heavy-duty stuff. Apply it every day immediately after the morning shower because otherwise you will forget, go out and get burned in the 9 seconds it takes to get from the front door to the car (where you remembered to hoist the sun shield, right?). Slop it on everywhere that will be exposed and don't forget hands, toes, ears and neck. Better still, stay indoors and wear your best cowboy boots around the house.

Take a shawl, scarf, shrug, balaclava helmet with you when you go out. Bars and restaurants will have the a/c on so high it's just a matter of time before somebody somewhere goes down with Bell's Palsy.

Beware of pedestrian crossings. These do not function for the benefit of pedestrians. You will, without fail, be stranded for several burning minutes at the junction of Lamar & 6th or anywhere on South Congress and if you don't have the protection of a hat you are, as Betty pointed out going to "get skin cancered."

Have in your possession lots and lots of underwear. It's possible to get through four pairs of
knickers a day, as well as a couple of bras.

Have in your possession lots of underwear. It is the season for these.

Buy a parasol. This is a nice one.

People Who Mess Around With My Knickers

People like Marks & Spencer. They need to stop doing that.
During the trip to Blighty I stocked up on some essential supplies, such as knickers: black, packs of five, you know the kind of thing - your everyday type of undergarment. Should be so simple but no.
My usual, the 'midi' brief is now nothing of the kind. It has morphed into the enormous big knicker - the sort you can pull up to become a one-piece swimsuit should the need arise. Someone moved the waistband a whopping two inches north. I can only shudder at the thought of the proportions of their 'full brief'.
So why the panic? Just get the 'bikini' brief instead? The band of which has been moved one and a half inches south.
I missed the telephone call informing me that all of a sudden none of my damned knickers were going to fit properly. Imagine going out one day and discovering that someone had shortened all the doors, or raised the height of all the toilet seats.

I'm sure I didn't dream the great M&S gusset re-positioning debacle of the 1990s - there was a campaign on Woman's Hour to have the things put back in the right place. Will they ever learn?

Same Old ....

..... Same Old.

Oh Dear I Did Laugh

THIS is funny. Check it out.

Thanks to Wide Lawns for the link.

To England

Where everything is small. I have a tall American Husband but English things appear tiny to me now, too.
For instance, when about to be crushed by a lorry (truck), about two inches away from my car seat: " English traffic lanes are quite narrow, aren't they?".
During morning ablutions, when a raised arm inadvertently sends bottles of decoratively arranged toiletries crashing into the bath: "English bathrooms are quite small, aren't they?".

I wear an Alpaca coat, suede waterproof boots, a hat, gloves and knee high woolen socks under woolen trousers. Texas does this kind of thing to a body. But I need not have worried; you soon get warm in a living room shared by six people and one incontinent cat: "English houses are quite small, aren't they?"

I am fortunate to have a sister and family with a Bathams pub for a local.












Quite simply the best beer. Very nice with a freshly made cheese and onion bap.

The Husband enjoyed seeing ancient places, some with dead people in them, like Worcester and its Cathedral (interesting dead people buried in the Cathedral include King John); Bewdley, to the cheese shop (proprietor very much alive) for some Worcester White and excellent pork pie; Bridgnorth, across the border in Shropshire, for a ride on the funicular railway .

We went to Birmingham where friends treated us to a full English breakfast, with eggs donated by hens running about in their back garden. There was a Middle Eastern dinner where the food was almost as good as the company and a party in Moseley where I was recognized by a woman I'd not seen since we were both in the Sixth Form at Holly Lodge.
It was a bit like being the Queen but without all the money and the Hardy Amies: lots of appointments. I didn't phone friends with children because I always worry that friends with children will never be able to schedule because of endless engagements with schools and after-school activities and trips to the hospital to remove saucepans from heads etc and I'll just be in the way. And you can't meet down the pub.
I discovered during the trip that it is possible to have enough sausage. This revelation was staggering, after being deprived of Cumberland and Linolnshire sausages for so long. Other good things included: bacon sandwiches, fish and chips, bread and butter pudding with custard, milk chocolate covered Rich Tea biscuits, Wensleydale cheese, black pudding, toasted tea cakes, hot cross buns and Bakewell tart but not all on the same day.
We went to the Pie Factory (meat pies, American readers) where the pie is indeed good but the chips even better, almost perfect in fact. You can also get a mixed grill served on a shovel. The Husband was bewildered to see Cow Pie on the menu because that's what you call shit in a field in the New World.