A long, long time ago, we had an epic battle with huge roaches and flooding apartments. That’s old hat, but one fun thing we took away from it was the saying, “eet’s tha humiditee” (ie: “it’s the humidity”).
This was a blanket explanation for all sorts of shennanigans, none of which were actually caused by humidity, mainly because it was so stinkin’ dry last summer. Humidity didn’t EXIST.
It’s become a catchphrase, though, as a ludicrous explanation to any and all strange happenings. But suddenly, we’ve discovered that it doesn’t really work anymore.
Because it’s so humid. It’s like a tropical rainforest every single day. In the evening bugs the size of housecats zoom around, catching a meal before the sun re-appears to boil them in the mud-that-is-air. Seriously, it’s so hot and sticky that as soon as I step outside I want to take a nap.
Good flowers, though. Including ones that match my shoes…
Event the feral cats are getting lazy. They don’t run away anymore when I start the car. Which is kind of a bummer. I like getting in the car and turning it on and watching them all scatter.
I guess now that we don’t have to deal with all the symptoms of humidity we have to deal with the humidity itself.
I’m not there, yet, but I can totally envision a day where I would prefer an epic battle with huge cockroaches over the humidity. I’m just sayin’…