. . . to blog yesterday. It got to 105, and I shut down the computer at noon. I’ll shut it down after I blog today, too, though it’s not quite as hot.
Little Weston chose to make his appearance as the heat approached, but since it is such a dry heat, the cooler in Andrew’s mobile home keeps things comfortable. We stayed comfortable, too, though the fan in the living room helped.
Billy, too, was born in the middle of a heat wave. It was a considerably worse one than this, though. And there was no air conditioning then.
I got to thinking about another baby born in the middle of a heat wave — this one of an equine variety. Little Jackson was born to a mother in her late twenties, in one of the worst heat waves of the summer of ’07. This would have been a lot like a woman in her eighties giving birth, and he was tiny and fragile. We didn’t really expect him to survive.
Billy started the sprinklers in the pen to keep mother and son cool, and it seemed to help. He was so tiny that he kept slipping out of the pen and wandering around, much to his mother’s dismay. We finally got the pen tight enough to hold him, but we called him Houdini for a long time.
Three weeks later, he was looking much more substantial.
He grew into a very handsome little horse, though he never got very big.
It’s getting warmer by the moment, and by the sweat beginning to pop out on my back, it’s time to shut down . . . until tomorrow, anyway.