Monday's temperature had such an affect that people now swap heat stories when they meet up. (Friends of ours had their car break down - almost the ultimate horror story on such a day.) Although it was very hot at the time, it's more in retrospect that it seems mildly traumatic, like a hellish taste of our possible future.
Leaves on plants in our garden were burnt to a crisp. We saw seagulls panting at the beach. That night, even though the change blew into town at 9pm, none of us slept. (Well, Olle slept, but the adults, including houseguests, did not.) For some unfathomable reason, the mosquitos went into a frenzy in our bedroom, even though the temperature had dropped a bit. Ar 3am I lay awake for an hour, my skin prickling with the humidity and ears buzzing with mozzies. Finally I went downstairs to try and sleep on the sofa, away from the mosquitos, who, along with the heat, seem to rise to the top in our house. I was visited by both dogs, then woken from a light sleep at 5am by a noisy downpour, then woken again by Olle getting into 'bed' with me at 7.30am. Luckily I was able to spend the day at home with no big demands, so I had a couple of short naps.
Two days later, I have heat bumps all over my hands. One friend developed mild heatstroke, simply from sitting in the shade at the beach all day. I'm sure the death rate in nursing homes must have gone up.
Today I'm in air conditioning (it's only 26C outside, 4.30pm) - of course, air conditioning is a big part of the problem, not any solution at all.
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