The grand kids are back in school, now. But we went to Florida to take advantage of the last few days for summer freedom. We were in Panama City, and man has that place changed. The three hurricanes that hit the gulf cost summer before last was a Godsend to those people. Everything was torn up and, now most everything is new and higher – both in price and height. But the ocean was great.
Personally I loved the smell of the salt air and the fairly warm ocean water. There was a storm about 10 miles off the coast that had the waves coming in pretty high and strong. There was a 10 to 15 mile per hour breeze that kept things cooled off, and it was wonderful for about 15 minuets. Then the constant pounding of the waves, the sand sliding out from under your feet and the need to lean into the waves got to be annoying. But I had to stay because Bug was holding my arm and “riding” the waves as they came by. Occasionally she would let go and dive into a big wave, come out wiping hair and water from her face and, opening her eyes and not seeing me in front of her, I would hear, “Paw Paw?” I would have stayed till midnight if she wanted too.
Sweet Tea LOVES the ocean and Bug does too. J-Man and I lean more toward the pool. He is amazing in the water. Both the kids are. But J-Man seems born to swim and dive and do tricks in the water. He’s amazing, and funny. We were sitting around the motel room that evening and something on the TV got us taking about kissing. I said it the low, sexy voice of some comedian I heard, “Come here, baby, I’m the Love Doctor and I want to play some tonsil hockey.” J-Man laughed and said in the same voice (or as close as a twelve year old can come to low) “Come here baby and let me clean your tonsils.” And started flicking his tongue around. I laughed for most of the night. Even after he went to sleep.
But, as with all good thins, it must come to an end. We came home Wednesday to a house that had a broken air-conditioned. The inside temperature, when we got home was 85 degrees. I’m glad it was almost dark. The next day I called a few repair places until I got one to agree to come that afternoon. At the same time I had a virus, bug, worm piece of shit get into my PC and I had the help desk on the phone for over four hours. So between the two, I couldn’t leave the house. When the repair man finally showed up it was 97 degrees in the house. It was 99 degrees outside (with a heat index of 105 to 110 degrees,) but there was a breeze out there. The house was just stale, hot air. After that, it so easy for me to see how there are so many deaths from the heat every year. BTW, it is not global warming. It's called SUMMER. Anyway, I was only in my shorts and sweating like a lumberjack whore on payday. I was getting nauseated and feeling ill by the time he got the damn thing working.
So, three hundred dollars later, I was able to leave the house and go to the Waffle House where I just set in a sweat soaked shirt (I put it on when the repair man showed up because I didn’t want to distract him with my awesome old man body physique) in the freezing air-conditioning. It was heaven, and I will never complain about the WH being too cold again.
Sermonette and Caulking Off - As my grandson, age 3, (below-right) prepares for Christmas by wearing a knit hat in 80 degree Southern California weather, the political season grinds do...
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