No surprise, it's hot in Houston! I think that is part of why I haven't posted much lately. Too hot to do anything really. As they say - it's not the heat, it's the humidity. Believe it or not, Houston isn't the most humid city.
According to World Facts & Figures, the city with the highest average humidity is St. Paul Island, Alaska! I was surprised at the number of colder places, but then I've never really lived in a cold climate. Those of you with more experience may understand that better. (By the way, the least humid was Milford, Utah, with a morning reading of zero humidity, and an afternoon reading of 34%.)
Houston actually is pretty far down the list at 27th. Cities ahead of it include New Orleans, Galveston, and Brownsville. I've also eliminated the following locations from any future intinerary: The Caroline Islands (except for Yap, which I'd like to see for it's famous stone money), Guam, Marshall Islands, American Samoa - and a whole lot of Alaska.
Or maybe not. I've visited lots of "uncomfortable" places, and I had a great time at all of them. The weather was a factor and something that I remember - but it was part of the place, part of the experience.
Which brings me back to summer in Houston . The real source of my ennui is familiarity. For the last 17 years, every summer has been hot and humid and full of mosquitos. The air is thick and I am reluctant to breathe it in. The air smells wet, the grass grows green. Moss creeps up the bricks, my camera lens fogs when I leave the house. My orchids hang in the live oak tree and bloom like they are in Thailand.
It may be hot, and humid - but it is home.