The temperature rose to 92 degrees F. here today.
By Saturday, it's supposed to top out at 103 before skidding back into the 80's by the end of next week.
But it's not bad.
I was just sitting out on the patio at 85 degrees or so and there was a cooling breeze blowing and a relative humidity of around 11 per cent.
Contrast that with Key Largo, where my blogger friend Stephen, aka The Chubby Chatterbox, was recently with it's humidity of 100 per cent!
So, like they say, "it's a dry heat."
Think of the poor citizens of Phoenix, just 80 to 90 miles from where I live.
On Saturday, the Weather Gods say their forecast high temperature will be 117 degrees Fahrenheit.
To those of you who live in a Centigrade/Celsius universe, that equates to around 47 degrees C.
And that, my friends, is hot.
Hot by any standard.
As hot as the open door of a blast furnace.
And it's only June.
But I was looking through some pictures from the home I grew up in, in North Dakota, today and I offer them as contrast.
And perhaps relief to my Phoenix friends.
Now granted, I exaggerate the contrast.
Judging from the wreath on the front door, this was sometime in December of a time long ago.
This is why I no longer live in North Dakota.
You don't have to shovel sunshine.