I’ve tried to hold my tongue. Really. I’m not usually one to complain. Most of the time, I am eternally optimistic, but quite frankly, I just can’t take it anymore.
H. O. T.
I am well aware that among most of the people in my social circles I am in the minority because I truly adore fall and winter. Summer is my least favorite time of year. I love a good barbecue on the 4th of July and I’ll even take good water fight now and then. The true saving grace of summer are the storms. I love a good, pounding rain and the thrill of an unexpected thunderstorm, but so far, we haven’t had much of that either.
The grass is brown (and crunchy), my feeble attempts at minor landscaping are wilting, and I am completely terrified to open my electric bill.
I suppose on the bright side of things, I could say that my laundry dries on the line in virtually no time at all, the mosquito population is practically nil, and I don’t have to worry about the kidlets dragging mud all over kingdom come.
Regardless, we are trying to spend time outside during the coolest parts of the day. There are simply too many amazing things to explore out here.
A couple of days later, it looked like this: