Don't blame me for that post title, or think I'm crazy. Blame the Australian blood coursing through my veins. I LOVE the heat. It's shooting up over 30 C today. The last few days have been awful illness-wise, meaning I've been confined to bed. No AC. Sticky and sweaty under the sheets. And I'm in heaven.
You know what else I love? Getting into a hot car. You know when it's already hot outside and you slide into your car and it's so hot it catches your breath? Yeah, I never crack a window open or turn on the AC. I love to just sit there and feel the beads of sweat form on my forehead.
I love lying in bed on a hot day, staring up at the fan whirling above my head. It makes me feel like I'm sitting in a southern home 80 years ago, when the air outside didn't move and the flies lazily buzzed at open windows, and the big ceiling fans swept above lounging bodies too hot to move, with a record spinning music into the atmosphere.
People have asked me that, if I ever follow my parents to Australia, won't I miss having winter at all? NO! Absolutely never! Even in the hot, humid weather that rolls around here in Ontario, I have never felt too hot in my life. The cold, on the other hand, chills me to the marrow of my bones. I put on long johns and snow pants to pick the boys up from the bus. It's just the way I'm made.