It
has been really hot, so hot that when I am outside there seems to be bacon
sizzling somewhere. At least my mind hears it, if only my nose could find the
aroma.
Early
morning walks, out back behind the house, are still possible, but by eight o’clock
the woodland strolls are out of the question. They are not fun for me and the
dogs suffer in the heat. Back at the house the dogs dig for cool soil to lay
on, and I can’t blame them, but we try very hard to discourage it. Parts of the yard are starting
to look like the No Man’s Land of World War I, all pot holes and bones. Taking the dogs down to one of
the ponds is tempting and sometimes we get there, but other times the dogs and
I just hunker down.
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I’ll
have to rout around my bookshelves now to find something else to read. Or, while
it’s really hot, it might be a good time to take my guns out, haul them down to
my workbench in the cool basement, and give them a good cleaning, at least
until the sun goes down.
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