Pittsburgh in July = Steamy BorschAs Nathan’s relatives like to say, [paraphrased-ish] “Pittsburgh in the summer is like swimming in a bowl of thick, hot soup.” Yes, indeed, it is. Pittsburgh seems to have the relative humidity to that of Costa Rica. Although I’m only a short three-hour train ride to Cleveland, I feel as if I’ve made a wrong turn and ended up in the Florida everglades.
As you’ve probably already figured out, this gal sure does not like the heat. Mish-mash that in with only being able to sleep during the hottest time of the day [I work nights], an non-insulated house with no air-conditioning, much-too-thick dreads on my head, and three warm and fuzzy kitties that love my pillowy lap and you’ve got one cranky Lindsay.
Okay, okay, so it’s not like I’m from the tundra in Alaska or anything, but living on lake erie made a huge difference. The lake breeze kept everything about ten degrees cooler…and for some reason much drier. I miss the weather back home; it’s even gotten to the point where I’m doubting I’ll last another hot-hot-hot summer here in Pittsburgh.
Yes, I’m considering moving solely due to the damp hot air that reigns over these three rivers. It has affected my moods [in an entirely negative manner] more than I’d like to admit. I like comfort. I hate sticky. On the hottest day I can recall, Nate and I decided it would be a great day to visit the butterfly forest at Phipps. What was I thinking?! It was even warmer and more humid than I’d wish upon my high-school nemesis. Beautiful? Of course. Uncomfortable? Exceedingly. These are the times I check Loobylu’s blog and see her complaining about the cold, rainy weather down in Melbourne, Australia, and I start drooling. How I long to wear two shirts and an itchy wool sweater and still be a bit chilly. Only two more full months until autumn. Lordy!
Nome, Alaska? Here I come.
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