When it is rude hot

 We moved to a part of the great state of Texas that is, hot. Really, that's an understatement. It is rude hot. Hot that makes you feel like you are living on the face of the sun and there is little to be done but to hunker down, pray the grid holds, and wait out the heat. Now, I know what you are thinking, Um...Dr. Mrs. Vicarage...you've lived in Las Vegas, Central Texas, and other parts that have extreme heat, you didn't die. You are correct. I am however deeply unhappy about living in places that have over 300 days of sunshine. I dislike the heat. I've said to people on multiple occasions that I have the opposite of seasonal affective disorder, I hate the sunshine and warmth. It is a running joke between myself and a friend who is a native of coastal Oregon...we were clearly switched at birth. 

When we were in seminary, a seminary friend and native central Texan, told me that our oppressive summers were payment for mild winters and elongated springs/falls. She was mostly right. I do love that it isn't a rare occurrence that I can wear my flip-flops nearly year around here. Yes, we do have cold spells but they aren't like Sierra Mountain range cold winters that last for nine months. I have often been reminded of this conversation each summer. And remembering that Fall is coming and soon after the most wonderful time of the year (Christmas, liturgical police can take several seats, I am uninterested in your reminder that Advent comes first, I will die on that hill) follows quickly behind. 

Today friends, it was the tipping point. I blame the rude heat, kids who are also bothered by rude heat and not much to do, and being home mostly full time (my new position is remote which is great for the flexibility but terrible when the kids are also home). As we say in the south (also, I know some will say Texas isn't the south and you are wrong, I don't make the rules but I will use them when I need to), I had a come-apart today. I think the stress of moving, changing jobs, buying a house, the vicar beginning is ministry, and summer (solidarity to the parents who have kids at home, I'm not sure how any of us are doing it!?!?!?) finally all caught up. It was a good ole fashioned pity party. I did what we do and I let myself feel all the feelings and then proceeded to move on. Sometimes we need that release. Now, I've had several friends offer me a reprieve but with covid, kids, summer, and jobs, I haven't been able to really take them up on their offers but man, are they appreciated. And someday soon, I'm going to run away (I'll come back) and escape to a place where I don't have to work or give out snacks, even if it is just for a few days. 

As we sit in joyful hope for the coming of fall, know that there will be days like this. I am overwhelmingly grateful for the blessings I have. I have a lot of them. I am also grateful for a spouse that sees the tension and does his best to respond. This too shall pass. Maybe like a damn kidney stone but it'll pass. Until the gentle rain falls, the cool breeze blows through, and there is a slightly cloud-covered morning, I'll continue to wait in joyful anticipation. Stay cool amigos.