It's not that I don't like the weather in Texas. It's just that I can't stand the weather in Texas.
This morning it was 54 degrees in New Hampshire, and 98 degrees in my backyard. At 8:15am. These kinds of temps should be the exclusive domain of 17th century men forging iron, and people with names like Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego.
We will climb to 110 again today. To work around this fact, we stay indoors, or in our car. Indoors is preferable, because the fact is that your car never cools down again after you take it into the sun for more than 12 minutes. Around 4pm, the A/C downstairs starts to think, "Aw hell, what's the point?" and stops reaching for the brass ring of 78 degrees. 80, 81, until the sun goes down and it recovers its will to fight.
In 6 days, the boys and I will head to Love Field and hop onto one of 3 Southwest Airline flights that will take us to Manchester, New Hampshire. The boys will love the novelty of flying, and I will love the sight of scorched earth disappearing behind the aircraft.
Packing commencing today.