Sunday, July 12, 2015
"There's the sun." SM says as we're sitting out on the back porch enjoying the early morning bird song. (I had already watered the garden during the pre-dawn.)
"Once the sun comes up over the tree line..." SM continues, "I swear it feels like that Riddick movie. We're all scrambling to get out of the sun."
"Crematoria." I say. "Which isn't far from the truth. I was out picking up dog poo and you'd be surprised how most of them have turned into charcoal briquettes."
This heat is wearing on my last nerve.
And we've got at least another 60 days of it before our typical mid September break.