The Heat is Hot

(Edited to include description of photo #3--Now, how did that get left out?! Please excuse the interruption)
There has been lots of talk about the weather lately. Everywhere. It is a popular way to begin conversation; safe, innocuous, everyone can relate to it. It’s hot here. It gets very hot, progressively hotter all day, up to 5:00 pm CST. So say the weatherheads on television. “It was hot today, it reached 100 degrees (F) today, very hot, but nowhere near the record of 104 back in 19-whatever,” the fellow chuckles. He can chuckle, he’s inside where it’s cool.

This kind of weather makes me want to hide out. Inside. Try to keep cool without running up the electric bill. That would be okay if I lived alone. No one else would have to deal with the consequent lethargy and depression brought on by lack of vitamin A. But I have the squids, and they need to be out in the sun as much as I. Out in the sun, the air, to run around and get hot and sweaty and so worn out they don’t have the energy to pick on each other.

Today the squids will discover some amazing things. When I was out yesterday I saw this:



A little blue winged insect which was on the move. It was very quick, and I’m surprised I caught it here. It was going in and out of the holes in the earth, from which, I believe, the cicadas come out to change into their winged forms. Notice what the heat has done to the red dirt in our garden. It’s like that all over. Back in the days when I would actually water the garden, I would wait and wait for the water to fill the opening. The crevasse seemed so deep; it was as if the water was being sent to the centre of the earth. Finally, it would bubble to the surface, trickle over a few inches, and drop into another crack to begin again. Right, the chasms are vast and not connected! Near the end of a long, dry summer one is afraid to let the squids out to play without a lifeline or at least a cell phone.

I also saw this:



This feather is near one of the cicada holes.

Hot! It’s hot! One good thing is when you finish hanging laundry out on the line, you can go back to the beginning of the row and take it in, ‘cos it’s dry already. Don’t leave it out too long, it’ll bleach out from the sun. No kidding. Look what we found in our backyard—garden for those who say so:



It’s the TARDIS! You can imagine our surprise. No sign of The Doctor. He’s probably somewhere keeping cool, eh? And wow, did the intense sun do a number on the paint—a perfect example of what happens when you leave something out too long. I don’t know what that alien ship is doing there. Those are not alien beings in the background, however, they are a type of squash plant, which turned out to be actually tiny white pumpkins—but are those actually gourds? In any case, they are suffering, too.

It’s hot! Too hot! I have songs running through my head. In the heat of the summer now, I hear The Heat is On, apparently by Glenn Frey. I had to look it up to make sure I had the right one. My memory had a woman singing it, but I couldn’t find that; I found Glenn Frey. Perhaps he sounds a little like a woman when he sings?

I also hear the Cole Porter song, Too Darn Hot. He’s a genius; he wrote the words and music to this song, and manymanymany others. I finally found the best version I’ve heard in a while, by Judy Barnett. Try this:
http://cdbaby.com/cd/judybarnett2/from/opjn
She sings the original lyrics. This is one of many Cole Porter songs some found in need of “cleaning up” for the general population. Awwww, can you say “censorship”? In fact, even recent versions of this song have used the altered lyrics. Here is the original bridge:

According to the Kinsey report
ev'ry average man you know
much prefers to play his favorite sport
when the temperature is low
but when the thermometer goes way up
and the weather is sizzling hot
Mister Adam for his madam is not
cause it's too too
it's too darn hot, it's too darn hot
It's too too too too darn hot.

Ella Fitzgerald sings a version that has some subtle, some clever, yet definite changes:

'Cording to the Kinsey report
Every average man you know
Much prefers his lovey dovey to court
When the temperature is low.
But when the thermometer goes way up
And the weather is sizzling hot
Mr. pants for romance is not
Cause it's too, too, too darn hot
It's too darn hot
It's too, too darn hot.

Second time:
According to the Kinsey report
Every average man you know
Much prefers his lovey dovey to court
When the temperature is low.
But when the thermometer goes way up
And the weather is sizzling hot
Mr. Gob, for his squab
A marine for his queen
A GI for his cutey pie is not
Cause it's too, too, too darn hot
It's too darn hot
It's too darn hot.

And of course, there are (other) verses – this was just the bridge. I found the lyrics in this form at Wikipedia, so they must be accurate! Right, well I do know they are, being so clever myself.

So that’s what I hear in my head. Another reason I can’t hear you when you speak to me. I see your lips moving, but all I hear is:

It’s too darn hot.
It’s too darn hot.
I’d like to sup with my baby tonight.
And play the pup with my baby tonight.
I’d like to sup with my baby tonight.
And play the pup with my baby tonight.
But I ain’t up to my baby tonight,
‘Cause it’s too darn hot.

It’s too darn hot.
It’s too darn hot.
I’d like to fool with my baby tonight
Break ev’ry rule with my baby tonight
I’d like to fool with my baby tonight
Break ev’ry rule with my baby tonight
But pillow, you’ll be my baby tonight
‘Cause it’s too darn hot.

(Cole Porter)