Tag Archive | Heat

If you have a butt or pets or children, you should read this.


It was a beautiful day here in Southern California. The sun was shining, the thermometer danced somewhere between 75 and 80 degrees, not too bad, and a lovely breeze softly blew through the trees. It seemed far too nice a day to stay indoors and my yard needed a little TLC, so after forgetting (again) to properly protect myself with some highly recommended SPF, out into it I went.

Everything was well and wonderful until I made it onto the front lawn, by lawn I mean patch of dirt with a scattering of weeds decorating the boring and barren landscape that should be a lovely oasis of curb appeal welcoming folks to my home, if you know me, that’s fricking funny since I rarely welcome folks to my home.

C2AB0B7D-E06F-484E-BB4D-4461F474C496With a sigh, I plopped myself down in the middle of my non-existent lawn and began to systematically dispatch the mostly dead dandelions and other practically parasitic growths that successfully manage to reincarnate every year despite my desperate, albeit fruitless, attempts to destroy their existence. What’s that they say about the definition of insanity?

Now, and this is why I’m writing right now instead of attending to the beautification (ha) of the exterior portion of my home, I hadn’t had my bum on that parched parcel of earth for more than a minute when I realized my backside was burning. Not like, whew, it’s a little toasty, but like, yikes! my ass is getting hot!


Image via Google. NOT my butt.

So, I decided to come in, cool off my hind-quarters and write up this little PSA in the form of a longer-winded-than-it-needs-to-be post about the dangers of HOT surfaces for our bottoms and our beloved critters who are unable to tell us, “Dude, my bums hot.” or, “Pardon me, human, the pads of my feet are getting crispy here.” My dog, by the way, may be smarter than her human, she was napping in the shade.

I realize my arse is likely a bit more sensitive than the bottom of a pooches paw, but it’s not like I was out there in a bikini bottom (don’t try to picture it, trust me). In F3A340AB-BD1D-43A8-A5D3-AB200DEC046Eactual fact, I was wearing shorts, denim shorts, so there was a decent layer between me and the sod-less, sun soaked, terra firma beneath me. My advice is unless you’ve got some thick skin, I suggest not plopping your unprotected self on surfaces the sun has settled upon.

So here’s the thing, if the ground, be it dirt or sand or pavement, is too hot for your own bum or bare feet, it’s too hot for your doggies and kitties, and kiddos as well. So protect them, keep them in the house or in the shade or get them some of those booties (but record your pets trying to walk because that is gold right there).


Alright, I just wanted to share that little bit with ya’ll. And in case anyone was wondering or worried, I did not sustain any injury to the posterior portion of my person. I did however burn the crap outta my shoulders. Wear sunscreen my friends, and protect the pads of your pooches paws.







Sigh. Ugh. Argh.



I seem to have taken ill, or lazy, or moody; they feel surprisingly similar at times. I am a miserable beast, my current disposition is slightly less than amicable and considerably less than favorable. I’ve done my best to mask the monster for nearly a week now in hopes no one would notice, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to contain.

Of course, I am prone to the dramatic when I feel like this, things are never as bad as I ultimately make them out to be . . . but they are. This is more than simple 6 AM melodrama because I am annoyed at being awake. This is, I have a headache, my body feels like it’s run a marathon from a simple day of housework, no one has bothered to pick up dog poo for a week, found the handle of my eighth favorite coffee cup on the floor, it’s so hot here I can’t properly breathe and I look like I work in sweat lodge, bills are due, and I forgot the important stuff at the grocery store, kind of turmoil..

Legitimate reasons to brood, no? I’ve not sat down to write anything of substance or value in quite some time, this particular grouping of words cannot be counted as proper writing since it is basically nothing more than a mini whine session to convince myself I am justified in my misery, not that I truly need justification. My complaints are just.

I’m mostly laying the blame for my ghastly circumstances on the heat, I grew up in Alaska, it’s not in my genetic makeup to survive and thrive in the September heat here in Western armpit of the United States. I’ve had eighteen years to acclimate to the seemingly volcanic temperatures my fellow citizens seem to adore, it’s not going to happen.

Sigh. Ugh. Argh.

Crystal R. Cook