I pondered and I searched for SOMETHING to write about today, and finally had to resort to a writing prompt. (For those of you just joining this page, my goal this summer is to write every day. It's harder than you think; try it.)

And the prompt says to write 200 words about a hot day. Okie-doke!

This morning's 6:30 wind made the looking out from the in appear cool; an overcast morning when you would like to do a lengthy morning saunter down the road, for miles and miles. Well. My outlook was inaccurate. But it was too late to go back, once I was in the pasture doing things like loading up t-posts and mowing a few walking paths for the dogs and me, filling up the horse tanks, and marveling at the giant tree part that just barely missed the fence itself. (That must have been some wind the other night.) And by the time 8:30 a.m. rolled around, I was not at all pleased to be out and about in the humidity.

In my mind's eye, there is little worse than the phrase "a trickle of sweat". I hate the term, I hate the sensation. That spouse o' mine, on the other hand, asserts that sweating is good for me. He thinks it's healthy.

He is sadly mistaken.

I unloaded the t-posts, weeded the worst parts of the garden (that's a pitiful story in itself.), watered my banana crop, and headed inside for the cool of the abode. Once inside, I cooled off, showered, and continued my day in the AC, whether in the house, the car, or at the quilt show I caught this afternoon. Cool as a cucumber I was. (Except for the walking to-and from-parts...)

And now, I am waiting for dusk, in which to go do the evening things...feeding ponies, dogs, and goldfish...glance at my ignorant tomatoes (again, a pitiful story for another day) and check the mail across the dusty, dusty road. Kansas dust.

The upside to this story? The Summer Solstice is in two days! Yeehah!