It's hot. Damn hot.

(Paraphrased from Good Morning, Vietnam)

I think if I ever have a summer home, it’ll be quite far north. In Canada. Maybe in the southern hemisphere even.

I live in central Indiana, just about 40 miles, northwest of Indianapolis. Definitely in the northern half of the United States. I grew up two hours north of here, locally referred to as “The Region.” The Region is (in)famous for lake-effect snow coming off the southern-most tip of Lake Michigan.

The last several days have held temps at 95 degrees or higher with 80 percent humidity. The heat index has ranged over 105 for several days now. Yes, I know there are a lot of people worse off than I am. But most of them live SOUTH of here. You can kind of expect that sort of thing, say in TEXAS.

And I am coming down with an air conditioning induced cold. Ugh.

The dog is insisting upon ice cubes in his water dish. I think I’ll take him in for another haircut. He had one about a month ago, but a) his hair has grown and b) the previously mentioned heat. He is a miniature schnauzer and they don’t shed. You basically either trim, shave or pull the hair out. I don’t endorse the pulling method, at least with Trent (some breeds you can and they don’t seem to mind). He gets extremely grouchy if you do. In fact, if I don’t keep up with the haircuts, his fur gets all woolly like a poodle and mats up something fierce. Then if you have to work out the mats or cut them out, he really is not a happy camper.

The dog’s haircuts are $35. Mine are $17.00, $27.00 if I have it styled. And he has to have it done more often. Go figure.

Sorry if it sounds like I’m complaining a lot. I probably am.

It’s just HOT. Damn hot.