weather sticky
Jun. 11th, 2006 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321Yesterday, the weather was ideal. Hot in the sun, with a breeze ruffling all the foliage. Delicious. The curtains billowed inwards, and sheets of paper fled across the floor.
Today started out blue-skyed. Already, at nine in the morning, it was quite hot. The sun was at the sides of our garden, the middle blazing by noon. One wanted to sit in the shade. Not a breeze stirred any leaf. It was that dead weather you get in my region: the air just sits in a bowl. Also, when it gets hot, my area tends to get sticky. My undies were wet. My waist was wet (where the trouser waistline sat). The soles of my feet are wet and stick to my ballerinas (which is actually useful because I don't flop out of the shoes). The area between my top lip and my nose (which yes, includes that famous lotrips piece of anatomy, the philtrum) was wet for most of the day, and I wiped it several times with my finger. My top lip got salty.
The afternoon lost its blue sky; it went white and murky. The air then felt as if there was going to be a storm; a low air pressure. But it never happened.
Now the wood pigeons coo in the dusk. A coolish air plays around my ankles. We have to have all the windows open but no wind moves the curtains.
Today started out blue-skyed. Already, at nine in the morning, it was quite hot. The sun was at the sides of our garden, the middle blazing by noon. One wanted to sit in the shade. Not a breeze stirred any leaf. It was that dead weather you get in my region: the air just sits in a bowl. Also, when it gets hot, my area tends to get sticky. My undies were wet. My waist was wet (where the trouser waistline sat). The soles of my feet are wet and stick to my ballerinas (which is actually useful because I don't flop out of the shoes). The area between my top lip and my nose (which yes, includes that famous lotrips piece of anatomy, the philtrum) was wet for most of the day, and I wiped it several times with my finger. My top lip got salty.
The afternoon lost its blue sky; it went white and murky. The air then felt as if there was going to be a storm; a low air pressure. But it never happened.
Now the wood pigeons coo in the dusk. A coolish air plays around my ankles. We have to have all the windows open but no wind moves the curtains.