Stinking hot at the school

 

Yesterday the temperature here in the upper desert was easily 107 degrees;  It depended what part of town one was in.  It was 111 in one part, and only 97 in another.    The sidewalks were empty,  no one was walking a dog or heading to the local market.  It was stinking hot.

Courtesy of Bing.com

I went to pick up my granddaughters from school.  Normally parents are mingling and talking about stuff.  The younger mothers are in their yoga outfits, with those cool shoes that are rounded on the sole.  They weren’t yesterday; they were almost naked, and they didn’t care one darn bit. 

Normally their little toddlers are toddling around, being so cute with drool and bits of crackers on their faces.  They weren’t yesterday.  No, the toddlers were crashed in their strollers, red-faced and miserable.  At least they had a bottle with something to drink.   

I wanted to steal the bottle, but the mother was watching me closely.

There was a silence that crackled; when it is that hot outside, I swear everything and everyone crackled.  The sidewalk was a pancake griddle; when I walked across it to get to the lunch area shade, the heat that rose from the griddle burned the hair off my legs.  I needed to shave them anyway.  The trees crackled, or perhaps it was the leaves that were crackling out their last bit of moisture. 

Other parents picking up students from school

We other miscellaneous adults were huddling under the lunch area shade.  No one spoke; we didn’t want to give up any last bit of spit to the dry air.  We all sat the same way:  arms akimbo, hands on knees, legs sprawled, head hung down.  It was the sight of misery, and none of cared one bit that we all looked like we had been dragged through sand, rolled in a tortilla, and toasted over a hot fire. 

My face must have given the image of one who was about to pass out.  I felt that way.  My cheeks were a shade of red that defies any color description, and the rest of my face was white, pasty white like Elmo’s glue white. 

Even the school children left their air-conditioned classroom like normal kids, but they crackled the moment they hit the outside air.  My granddaughters were silent as we walked to the car. 

‘Please, God.  Help me get to the car!’ I prayed. ‘I don’t want to pass out on the sidewalk.  They would send for an ambulance, and…wait, let me pass out on the sidewalk after all…” 

We made it to the car, just barely.  As the girls fastened the seat belts, I got the A/C cranked up to the last number, 4.  Why there isn’t a 5, 6, or 7, I don’t know.

 
I had forgotten I had left my iced coffee in the car.  The ice was melted, but the diluted coffee was cool.  I let the girls drink it all, Lord love them.  It wouldn’t sound good to hear in the news that a grandmother let her granddaughters pass out from dehydration, while she sipped on iced coffee.

The mass was ended, thanks be to God.

 

Patrick 

Lillian watched as her community went to mass. She grinned as the children raced around and parents led them into church.  There would be hope for the next generation. Friday was always a day which made her smile.  For it was then the fiends of the community raced to confession to be forgiven for their many sins.

 

 Lillian sighed since she knew them by name. She knew those sins by heart, as it was a common thing. She would be shocked if they did anything else. One was even an altar boy.  He carried a weight of sin which lay on him and he missed the sacramental wine. Dang.

 

Novices Anna and Mary had prepared the wine and cleaned up after.  The drink of the holy wine was taken by the fiends. As soon as the closing “The Mass is over. Thanks be to God. Go in peace. “The boys raced out of the sanctuary to the place up high where Ann and Mary waited. Kisses were beginning.

 

What they did was not surprising, not a shock though. Anna and Mary were not the novices as was thought.  As darkness began to drop. Lillian smiled, remembering her days as a novice. 

 

 Good times. 

 

The underlined segments are from Elephant's Child who manages to find or fineable words to challenge bloggers in Blogger world. Go to her site and see what people have done with these. 

I really enjoy challenges like these. These strangest words always provide lots of entertainment.

 

 

Nothing ever stays the same.

 

When we moved here to sunny desert San Diego County from lush green rainy Ireland, we chose a city that was more rural than city.   With cows grazing in fields, orange groves, and huge gardens that sold produce in road-side stands, we loved it.  The hills around us were covered with rocky outcrops with patches of manzanita and sage. 

What a pleasure to be outside, whereas Ireland wasn't really a walk-about with rain.  Wind from the west sent the smell of cows (and manure) our way. The north wind gave us eucalyptus.  From the south came the sweet citrus orange blossoms.  The eastern winds from San Jacinto Mountains and deserts gave me a migraine.

That was nearly 25 years ago, and life in California changes at a rapid pace.

On the hills we now see expensive homes with a superior view.  The rocks are still there, but for how long?  Until another housing developer blasts them away?

These were  boulders on a hill near our then house. We claimed them as our own.

The cows grazed on mighty expensive land, it turned out.  Those lovely black and white cows were moved out and a new high school moved in with parking lots.

The brittle eucalyptus trees grow at an alarming rate.  We had four and had to remove them; they were a danger to houses around us.  Brought here by Spanish padres from Australia, those trees took over the state.  Not a source of lumber since the trees shattered and burned easily, the trees are being removed which is a good thing.

Orange groves once covered large parts of southern California.  Once a heavenly-scented place to live, the groves are gone with houses in their place.  The grove to the south of us sat for years on a big corner lot.  Ignored, oranges dropped and rotted on the ground.  Without water, the trees were gnarled dwarfs.  

Yesterday, on a drive to the store in that area, I was shocked to see the trees bulldozed into a pile in the middle.  The lot was valuable and had been sold. 

So, the only thing that remains is the Santa Ana wind from the east. Right now, these winds are fanning the fire around Los Angeles.

These, unfortunately, will always blow through my head, giving me a migraine.

The photos comes from the following sites:

 Gettyimages.com 

http://www.panoramio.com/photo/40275361  by Cyborg

http://freepages.family.