The girl and I were chatting the other day about our abrupt entrance into summer. One day, we grabbed sweaters as we ran out the door. The next, we hung the sweaters in the closet for the duration. Over night, the quality of the heat and the light changed. It's summer around here. Nice for the pool temp; not so nice for hanging around in the heat.
I wish I loved summer more. My dread of the constant sun seems not only "not fun," but a little unnatural. (I mean most people love summer.) The beloved comes to life again. He basks in the heat. I'm not sure he has a concept of too hot. But that's the way I feel in winter, so I guess it shouldn't seem so bemusing.
Gotta move furniture. New sofas are coming, and the old ones have to be out of the way.
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