Dog Days

We seem to be in the dog days of summer.

Most of us think of the dog days as that time when kids can't yet go back to school and there's just nothing to do that isn't insanely "boring."  "I want something to dooooo!" comes the cry.

Just not the idea or project you think might work to get your and the young one's mind off the heat, the humidity, and the lack of any new stimulation sufficient to entertain or amuse for just a while.  As I recall, mom didn't really care too much for my declaration I had nothing to do.

I also learned being bored could mean getting a job even worse than boredom.  Sometimes, it's better to be quiet.  The dog days are said to run from July 3 to August 11 or the 40 days surrounding the conjunction of the Sirius (Dog star) and Sun.   Or a couple of weeks when it is too hot and too sticky to do anything not absolutely required to be done.

Lemonade in a glass with cubes is a respite for the dog days.  A spot of shade and a light breeze provides relief.  Or a phone call with a friend you haven't spoken with in a long time; preferably a call taken in an air-conditioned home.

You have to be close to my age or older to remember what "we" might think of as the real dog days. Those are the lazy, crazy, hazy days of summer before the widespread use of air-conditioning.

It's possible to find homes without even a room air conditioner now, but it's more difficult than it used to be.  We opened windows, closed or opened blinds depending on the angle of the sun, and sometimes left windows open all night so they could be closed tight with drapes drawn during the day.

After a while, the seasonal rhythm of heating and cooling is something to which we adjust.  Unless it comes too fast or abruptly.

During the summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I spent three weeks on the campus of Washington University in St. Louis.  It was 1980 and the summer in the center of the country felt like an oven.

Except when it felt like an ice box.  The campus buildings seemed to be chilled down enough so the ice in the lemonade couldn't melt.  We went outside and practically melted ourselves.

Many kids fell ill to the whipsaw of fluctuating body temperatures.  We were fortunate.  In St. Louis and Kansas City, 1 in every 1,000 people was treated or died from heat-related symptoms.

On a trip to the St. Louis Zoo, it was so hot the lens slid out of the frames of my glasses and broke.  I had trouble seeing things at a distance the rest of the summer session.  I forgot to mention the reason for the trip, Debate Camp.

Yep, I was a cool kid.  But, only when freezing during research in the library.

Leash your dog days, it won't be long until we dream about temperatures in the upper 80s.