Street clocks that show the temperature

It’s not often, but yesterday I was wrong. It takes a man to sit here sweating in his underpants to admit that.

When I wrote the post about the weather yesterday, I hadn’t yet been outside. But on leaving the house to go to work, I discovered my folly. Yesterday was actually hotter than the day before, a fact that was confirmed on the TV news last night.

Hottest day of the year. Official temperature 43,6°C. But here in the west of the city, they showed one of the street clocks in our area marking 48°C (122°F), now THAT’s hot!

No wonder my beer was boiling in the bottle.

Last night, it was impossible to sleep. Despite several ‘cold’ showers and lying in bed sopping wet under the direct fan to try and stay cool enough to drop off. I finally stopped trying and got up and wrote a post I have issues. Pop across and read it, there’s some personal back ground there that could well apply here.

Did you get the riddle in yesterday’s post title? = Blowed if I know! and the other = A man’ best friend is his dog. I had the book years ago, but sold it with the rest of my library when I decided to go abroad.

murphys-irish-stoutI am hoping that my student will ring soon and cancel today’s lesson.

It’s too hot to even think about work and I have a can of black sludge (Murphy’s Irish Stout) in the fridge that needs drinking. I drink it as a black ‘n tan (half stout, half beer) because it’s so expensive, that way I get double the pleasure.

Although I am not in the more affluent class, I am at an age when small pleasures are deserved.

I have been invited to my neighbour’s for New Years Eve, and apart from a nice imported bubbly to celebrate the New Year, I have two more cans of black sludge  to share with him.

Now I must off, my plants are doing a collective wilt. This heat has already killed off my mint and also, I’m afraid, my bonsai has succumbed as well.