We here in our spot on the planet, are full on with the sweaty palms and the stifling sleepless. A heat wave that presses down and makes tidying the house about the least desirable task imaginable...so there are ants in the kitchen and a general flush of messy. The garden scolds with it's fried blooms that need to be discarded and the lettuce that has bolted tall as a 5 year old.
Frizzled dandelion fluff drops and rolls - making it's wishes that will come true in a dizzying multiplication, the chickens are lackluster burying themselves in the dusty shade, and popsicles are mandatory by mid-afternoon.
A constant serenade of fans singing "flup flup flup" fills the little green cottage, syrupy peach juice fingerprints call the ants to new territory, and the Buddha Cat keeps infiltrating the cool dark of the basement where he does bad things.
Sheets are bleaching in the sun, fading vibrant florals to whispery hues, the red bucket gets filled again and again to quench thirsty new trees, and the tomato plants are big as buildings.
By 5 we are overtaken by a sticky ennui and a general malaise, a lethargy of spirit leads to absurd negotiations between the small grump and a tether-less mama (it couldn't have been me who was heard to say, "I've lost my tether altogether and don't know where to find it"). But then it is certain that cool showers are miracles at 6 in the evening. We call truce and set to the industry of keeping up with the ice demands, outside we will wait out the dusk into the night - whispering incantations to summon a breeze.
We'll sit quiet, unmoving - until one of us says, "It's supposed to be hotter tomorrow."