Water and Ice

140

It’s hot.

There’s not much more to say about it.  Friday afternoon, when we took off for a weekend in Nevada, the mercury here in the desert mocked us at 122 degrees.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, on both Saturday and Sunday, when we walked out to the car, the digital thermometer read… well, see photo above.

So we live in a blast furnace.  On Friday, my nephew emailed me to remind us to keep hydrated. 

As if I needed a reminder.

Water has become my best friend.  And I don’t even like water.  It makes my belly ache.

Living in Hell, however, has significantly changed my outlook on H2O.  If you don’t believe me, I will tell you that the big truck with the long hose that the guy drags in through our back door paid us a visit on Thursday and filled our tank with 91 gallons of drinking water.

I intend to drink all of it.

Some of it may find its way into our iced tea pitchers (we bought two more in Nevada) and some of it may become pink lemonade.  Jugs, glasses, cups, pitchers — they all become convenient way stations for the pouring of water into the temporary home that is our bodies.

I say temporary, because it goes in one end and out the other.  I am wearing out the path from the kitchen to the bathroom.

My wife loves ice and has to have it in every drink.  If we are staying in a hotel, the bucket must be carried to the ice machine and back at least once per day.  At home, we have the purple bowl of ice in the little freezer and the ten pound bags of ice in the big freezer.  When we start to run low, a visit to Smart ‘n Final is in order.  If they are closed, Burger King is open 24/7 and they sell big bags of ice out of the drive-thru window.

As for me, well, ice is not my thing.  I am more than happy to open a bottle or can right from the pantry or to tap the water tank as is.  If I’m out in the heat, sure, a cold drink is welcomed.  But sitting at home or at work in the air conditioning while the sun sizzles outside, room temperature liquids suit me just fine.  I think ice is overrated.

I don’t drink alcohol, but I can understand why beer is often served “warm” in England.  In fact, I am told that in the U.K., ice is not an expectation and drinks, hard or soft, are generally served without it.

I must have been a Brit in another life.

 

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