Swelter

Yeah, I know I was complaining about the rain—the dreary, chilly rain – was it just a month or so ago? Well, I’m taking it back. Not all of it, but some of it. Because now it’s hot.  Hounding hot and dry. Perpetually dry. Enough so I find myself soaking the horses with the hose every afternoon.  One trick weather.  You should see my horse-owner tan: starts at my wrists (riding gloves) and runs right up to my biceps.  Not that it matters, since I gave up bathing suits when I lost my waist and found that varicose vein.

A little storm would be nice now and again – just to break the relentless sunnyness.  Add a little interest. Use the space.

I rode four horses yesterday.  Three today.  Brennan and I, between us, have ridden all five.  Now all of us have heat stroke, including the horses.  Okay, not really heat stroke, but near enough so when I fixed lunch today (which I never do) it was lime sherbet floating in a long, cold glass of peach Fresca. Chaz didn’t mind.  And there had to be vitamin C in there somewhere.

I found this picture today as I was working my way through the summer of 1986.  It was July.  An interesting July.  Back when they really used to know how to use the light.

And that’s it.  

See?  I can do short.