It’s come to my attention that the weather plays a significant part in a large chunk of my blog posts. Either this is an accurate reflection of my ability to make small talk and little else with strangers, or I just happen to be more sensitive to the whims of Mother Nature than someone who spends 90% of her time indoors should be. Upon review, four of my 26 previous posts are weather or season-related. That’s roughly 15.384% for those of you who prefer percentages.
With my younger siblings a mere two weeks away from starting up the newest year of school, I decided that there was no better time than to center this week’s post on a topic that probably belonged at the beginning of the summer. If it just so happens to be weather-related, then at least an 18.52% weather-post percentage is a more ambitious number.
The tail-end of July, leading into August, has proved to be the peak of the sun’s relentless siege on Cedar City. Although not as hot as some places, Cedar’s 90-100 degree Fahrenheit weather has become the key source of my complaining and sweat-soaked, extra-frizzy hair. My practically translucent skin is a testament to how much I try to avoid the outside world, but I am a human being who has to leave her den at least sometimes, so the heat isn’t something that I have the pleasure of avoiding completely. Like most living creatures, I have had to adapt and find a way to beat the heat of Summer.
Cold refreshments are always a great way to stave off the impending heat stroke that heads one’s way during these Summer months. I usually find myself downing several glasses of ice water when I’m at home, and at work every thirty minutes is spent on taking a mini vacation to the drinking fountain. At this point, the drinking fountain and I are so familiar with one another that we might as well elope to Vegas. Or, we would if it wasn’t so attached to the wall.
When I’m not feeling so stingy with my money and I can bother myself to take a trek across town, then I chase away the heat at Tiki Shack. Ah, Tiki Shack: the snowcone shack without rival. Mainly because within a couple years of it opening, it chased away business from Cedar’s four other snow cone places and shut them down because it was just that good.
Tiki Shack has good prices, good snow cones, and good memories. The majority of my get-togethers with friends take place at what was once a humble, tropical-themed trailer in a grocery store parking lot. After-wedding celebrations, goodbye parties, we-survived-another-year-of-upper-education-death shindigs—they’ve all happened here. Granted, that’s probably because there’s very few places to go in our humble college town, but my taste-buds aren’t complaining.
When icy beverages just don’t cut it, I have to turn to my clothing (or, lack of) to hit the high temperatures where it hurts. I absolutely adore winter clothing, and I may or may not shed a tear or two when it’s time to put my sweatshirts and boots away. I do love short-sleeved shirts and flip-flops, but shorts and I have an issue.
Probably because my brothers have to scream “legs!” and “I’m blind!” every time they see me wearing a pair.
Beating the heat becomes harder when I sequester myself in the house. You would think that the great indoors would do all the work of staying cool for me, but even with every ceiling fan turned on to the highest setting and our swamp cooler working it’s hardest to circulate cool air, sometimes it’s just not enough. My bed is occupied a lot less during the summer, and the floor becomes my new resting place. If there’s one thing I remember from high school science, it’s that heat rises (and the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell), so I take it upon myself to sprawl out on the floor. Resting on my stomach, legs and arms extended like a lifeless snow-angel, face pressed against my hair-coated carpet. The “Starfish pose”, as I call it, is surprisingly effective. I can cool down a lot faster like this.
The one downside to this position is that it tends to make me fall asleep, especially if I happen to be listening to music at the time. There’s been four or five times this summer where I’ve sprawled out to cool down and woken up an hour later with my face speckled in red marks and with a neck so stiff it makes cracking noises every time I move.
Perhaps this is my body’s attempt to hibernate during the summer. Bears do it during the winter to help escape the cold and scarcity in food, maybe I could do it during the warm months to escape the heat and scarcity in my desire to actually be productive. And when it all boils down to it, I would much rather be in the house sleeping than passed out on the sidewalk, melting.