As Glenn Frey would say, “The Heat is On.” It’s 30C (86F) out in the fields with little sign of cooling off any time soon. I couldn’t be happier, as I’m through with the cold. Let the sweat drip from my jaw, I want the sun. This is part of the reason why I moved south a while back. It’s actually why a lot of Ohioans move south. I used to keep the windows open in the Charlotte heat until it hit 38C. Any hotter, and I was concern it’d ruin any perishables I had in the house.
Much to my surprise, I wasn’t turned on by Phoenix. Being the glutton for punishment I was, I went at the end of July to see some friends that relocated out there. Most of my contacts are now flung all over the states on their own life paths. I don’t begrudge them that. It’s definitely their life to live, even though I miss them so. It also makes for a terrible night out. I can’t call my friend of 19 years to go out for a couple of drinks at a bar.
Has anyone else traveled to a location they thought perfect then get an unpleasant surprise upon arrival?