The porch, where I sit and sip coffee, is too hot for much communion with the outdoors. What a weakened sissy I have become. How thankful I am for the air conditioning. Wuss-wussier-wussiest. Once upon a time, I guess, I simply lived through it because there was no other option. Now I cross my fingers for the options I know are available. "Dear Santa -- I don't want a lump of coal...."
Yes, yes ... I hear the Zennie chorus: "When it's hot, sweat; when it's cold, shiver."