August Sucks

I have written more than once in this space about my distaste for the month of August, which, along with February, competes each year for the status of most hated month. February’s sins are obvious enough. It’s the dead of winter. But why should August be singled out for ridicule? It is, after all, a summer month, a time when many people vacation. It should be a time of lazy days and memories.

But, there’s this...

To my friends in Maine, these may be curious images indeed. Why are the windows of your house fogged over with moisture at 6:15 in the morning? Is it raining outside? It looks like the sun is shining. Correct. The sun is shining. In fact, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. No, no...this is August in Short Pump, that delightful time of year when the simple act of walking to the mailbox causes you to sweat off a pound. You will never hear anyone from Virginia begin a sentence with the phrase, “Remember that delightful August day when...” No, August is something to be endured, like gout or diarrhea. There are no holidays in August. What would be the point? 

The conditions under which I took the above photographs were as follows:

6:25 am

Temperature: 73

Relative humidity 97%

Wind: 1 mph

How on Earth can the humidity be 97% if it’s not raining? Excellent question, the answer to which no Southerner knows. All I know is it will be this way until the middle of September. My Mosquito Authority guy is coming today to treat the yard, possible the most pointless exercise of all time, since there isn’t enough money in all of Christendom to make me sit outside on my deck during the month of August. August nights around here are for inside sports...like walking around the house naked lifting prayers of praise and thanksgiving for the invention of Air Conditioning. Speaking of which, why isn’t this man on Mt. Rushmore??

Wills Carrier. Inventor of Air Conditioning.