We are going to Texas. Visiting. In June. Not the best time to visit Texas.
I know.
I'm from Texas.
It's gonna be hot. And even though I know it's going to be hot, I will still be surprised because you can't remember that kind of hot.
When I say I will be surprised, I don't mean, "Oh, what a nice surprise! It's hot here." I mean, "$#@*! It's so hot! How could it be this hot? How can people stay alive in this heat??" THAT kind of surprised.
Because that kind of hot is like severe pain. You can remember it happened, but not what it actually felt like.
Just some random summer vacation thoughts...
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My Mind's Eye
snippits and ramblings. musings and observations. a little homeschooling, a lot of kid stuff. home life. and of course scrapping. faith. organizing. whatever.
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June
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- the mighty mississip. a real-time blog. (that mean...
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3 comments:
or like the smell of a skunk
or the taste of liver
I remember that it is abrasive to me
But not HOW much so until I smell/taste it again
kellicrowe
I don't think I ever want to know that kind of HOT.
Hey! I lived in Texas for 14 years. Smell of a skunk...? C'mon!
Part of my honeymoon was taken in South Texas. Visiting friends in Austin (in June) it was 108 without heat index. My new wife, a lifelong Wisconsinian... Well, maybe 'the smell of a skunk' has its merits after all.
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