Armadillo Day

Houston hit record high temperatures of 109 degrees this weekend. I know that the Arizonans and southern Californians out there don't think that that's a very big deal, but it's kind of a big deal here. We're usually only moderately hot, but it's the humidity that kills us.

At least, it's the humidity that would kill us, except that we're in the middle of a very dire drought. I'm not kidding--the entire U.S. is getting rain except for Texas. It's so dry it's not even humid. I can jog in the evenings without drowning, and temperatures are going into the high 70's overnight. That doesn't happen even when it's not 100+ degrees--we're usually more like 85 at 3:00 in the morning.

A group of my eccentric/fun-loving friends has declared this coming Friday to be Armadillo Day. We don't care about six more weeks of winter so we've decided that when "Roadkill Bill" comes out from under Karen's neighbor's porch and sees his shadow, it means six more weeks of summer.

Of course, we'd have six more weeks of summer, anyway, but why pass up an opportunity to declare something a holiday, especially if it's a holiday that sounds like it could involve margaritas and barbecue?



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