Thursday, July 30, 2009

Shakin' It With My Monkey

I got up early this morning and tried to get as much done as I could. I ran the dishwasher. I took out the trash. I finished off the S.O.C.K.S Sock (I've pretty much knit the whole thing at my Summer Of Compensatory Knitting Socialization sessions) and ran the vacuum. I did everything I could think to do before the heat set in again.

I feel kind of silly about all this. The high temperature in the living room for the past two days has been 85. That's nothing. I've broken 90 on several occasions. I live on the second floor so the heat rises up here quite nicely. I should be used to this sort of thing. But, I am afraid that this cool, rainy summer has rendered me incapable of appreciating true heat exhaustion. What can I say? It is what it is. It's been hot for two days now. Hot with a side of muggy. I am just not at my best under these circumstances.

I lolled about on the couch making little whimpering noises and wondered if it was possible for the human body to truly melt into a puddle. If nothing else, it would have been nice if ten or so pounds had dribbled off my prostrate form, but otherwise I really didn't think I wanted to melt. I got up long enough to run the ice cream maker since I'd also made a custard this morning in anticipation of humid conditions. Mostly though, I just suffered through the heat.

This, however, did not stop me from periodically bustin' a move with my monkey. Let me be clear about this. Samba de Amigo is the stupidest game ever invented, particularly if you happen to be the world's most uncoordinated human. The very idea that a middle aged woman should be entertained to the point of muscle fatigue by the sight of a happy monkey encouraging her to shake her maracas to complex beats is crazy. Whomever invented this game must have been off their nut.

But I can't stop. It's like crack for the eyes. My back is killing me. My wrists are slightly numb. My elbows have developed this weird clicky-clicky thing and my shoulders are screaming every time I wave hello. (Which I don't really do all that often during the course of the average day, but I hate to be unprepared should the need to greet suddenly present itself)

It is just too hot for this kind of nonsense. But what is a girl to do? When the siren song of the maraca shaking monkey wends its way into the ear canals, you just gotta make the music happen. (Which is an overly positive spin to put upon my performance in this game, but I'm hot and the ice cream hasn't set yet. What else do I have, really?)

On an unrelated, but certainly festive note, let's all take this opportunity to wish Mommy and Daddy Sheep a very Happy Anniversary! I may not be able to get a card in the mail in time for the actual occasion, but that doesn't mean I don't recognize. Love you both and I hope the day was a good one for you! Check the mail early and often...the card and all its good wishes will be there post haste.

The monkey says, "Happy Anniversary," too!



trek said...

Yay for Mommy and Daddy Sheep!!!

Did the monkey come with a side order of Ben-Gay?

crzjane said...

Happy Anniversary to Mommy & Daddy Sheep!
That sounds like one wacky monkey. But it also sounds like a lot of fun.

Cursing Mama said...

With all this monkey dancing going on I bet you can just skip those regular work outs!

Kath said...

Well if dancing with the monkey is a good workout - why not? I'm sure the AGK & BFK find it very entertaining!

Donna Lee said...

With all the cool, moist weather we had all through June and most of July, I was totally unprepared for the heat this past week. I made myself sick because I forgot all the heat precautions. Now I am becoming acclimated and taking better care but ewwww. The consolation is that it's August already and soon will be September. And those wool socks will be looking good again.

Anonymous said...

Thanks to all. It is amazing how fast the years roll by. Was a fine day to celebrate our anniversary. Lobster was just what we wanted, along with a good marsh view. Well's beach offers a great get away.