So I was on vacation. And I'm exhausted. I always come home from vacation tired. I think I don't know how to take vacations properly or something. I do it wrong. Regardless, the weather was decent, the views were lovely and I just happen to like the mountains. So spending a week there was cool. Literally. And now back home it is so effing hot I could fry an egg on me arse.
|My vacation was heavenly|
Speaking of weather, I heard something very interesting on the way home. For those who have traveled the back roads of the south, you will find there is a threshold you cross. There is no visible line. You don't know when you've reached it until the radio station you're listening to begins to fade out and you try to find a new one. You hit seek or scan and realize as each station passes that you are now in a new world. The world of country and preaching. Yup. Only two choices. Pretty much all twang and dang.
I lived in Florida for awhile and drove between there and, well, other places. I found myself in this netherworld of Garth Brooks and Jesus Christ many times. But on my journey home from the Blue Ridge Mountains I heard something that had never crossed my ears before. A weather report.
"A weather report?" you say with sarcastic disdain. "That's the bread and butter of radio. How was that odd?" Well, after the um, Earthly weather report, I was given the weather report for somewhere else. Not the moon. Not Mars. Not Venus. Not the surface of the sun (8 billion degrees and moony). Nope. I was informed that in heaven it would be sunny with a large rainbow. Yes folks, I was given the weather report for heaven.
|See the similarities?|
I don't know if the reporter was actually in heaven, or had an inside source of some kind. Or maybe he was able to place a webcam and a thermometer there during a near death experience once and now has access. But in case you were wondering what type of weather your Great Grandma Ruth is enjoying, it's pretty damn awesome. There are white fluffy clouds, and the streets are never wet from rain because they are "translucent". A front of love is moving in, followed by a storm of joy.
After hearing this I was really looking forward to the weather report from hell, but they just went to a Metamucil commercial instead. So I think I might start writing weather reports from hell. I figure all I need is a ouija board to contact Hitler and I'll get a direct line to whether it's just warm or eyeballs on fire any given day. Can it rain in hell? Or is it so hot that the drops just evaporate? What about snow? Everyone always says that snow in hell is not likely to happen but if hell is supposed to be you know, hellish, I can think of nothing worse than excruciatingly hot snow. Can you imagine that? I'll ask Hitler if that ever happens.
Alas I'm now back to the reality of work, house cleaning and cooking. It's going to be busy with a patch of whining, with a possibility of a flood of tears later in the week. Might vacation in heaven next summer.