117 Degrees

I knew it was going to be hot in Phoenix, but 117 degrees?

Fortunately, everywhere I went was air-conditioned, and eventually, my body conditioned itself to automatically wince when I stepped outside into a brick wall of heat. People actually complained it was humid. HUMID! I grew up in the South where on any given day from July to September you could steam a bowl of green beans for your supper by just setting them on the porch. I was almost tempted to see if I could bake a cake in my rental car. It was a good trip and I met some fantastic people, but I am happy to be home.

The most welcome feeling, besides my beloved's face and my dog howling at my return, was the cool ocean breeze when I stepped out of the airport.

And now I am inland and back to baking.