The Collapse CLIX: Hot

22 August 20XX +1

My Dear Lucilius:

It is hot.

Not just the heat of a passing day or two of Summer. No, the crushing soul-sucking heat of a world that seems to have passed too close to the Sun.

I cannot remember a run of days here since my relocation that it has been this hot – nor can Pompeia Paulina, whose memory goes back farther than mine. Nor, apparently, anyone of Young Xerxes’ acquaintance either.

It is – and this word is used advisedly – d###edly hot.

The quail have had to be relocated to a wire enclosure near the trees in the back (and watched out the window0 during the day lest they perish. The bees are clustered around the front of the hive moving air around during the heat of the day instead of foraging. The water carefully trudged up and over in the morning only seems to keep them alive until the evening when they are watered more.

My wheat is drying nicely, I suppose. And fish drying is going along swimmingly (even in the heat I still retain the remnants of my humour).

The Cabin is reasonably insulated from this – thank my overspending in remodeling back in the day – but even at that we have the shades closed and do not do much. It has actually gotten bad enough that Young Xerxes and Statiera spend the days with us as their house is simply too hot.

You might wonder how four people do in a 900 square foot house. As it turns out relatively okay – so long as the topics of discussion are free from 1) The Heat; 2) The Wheat and its potential ripening; and 3) Whether or not there is sufficient toilet paper in the outhouse that will not necessitate a second trip.

You laugh. You should not. Heat tends to fray tempers as it turns out.

What do we do? Whatever food prep that does not involve heat. Some reorganizing (as if that had not already been done at least three times). Verbal reorganizing for Young Xerxes and Statiera when this latest wave subsides. Puzzles. Reading.

Oddly enough, no discussions about the future. Which may be for the best at this point – at best we have no idea what that might look like and speculating seems to create unneeded tension.

As soon as it remotely cools down Young Xerxes and Statiera are away to their home and Pompeia Paulina and myself are hard at work watering and moving quail back and relocating fish to the shed for the night and anything else we can do – fortunately the evenings are still long and much can be done.

It does cause me to wonder though about all those who lived in places where heat such as this is a common occurrence. Are they still there? Could they “sweat it out” in places like Arizona and Texas and The Deep South? People did once upon a time of course: The Civil War was fought in Summer in wool uniforms. But that was a different era and we have become a people used to comfort – or at least we used to be.

Odd to think that comfort can now be defined as “Hot enough to get work done without expiring”. How far we have fallen.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca