Okay, I give up - the heat is definitely whooping this freckled fair-skinned girl's butt! I am peeling my dewy-self off of the couch where, I confess, I've been doing something close to nothing. I wish I had words of refreshment if not inspiration for these days that are way beyond dog days.
I mean, even the dog has created a trough in the carpet from napping 24/7.
Speaking of napping ...
That is about the extent of my efforts of late.
Oh, my limp hands have held some good books (The Paper Garden: An Artist Begins her Life Work at 72 which means I have 22 years to loaf before I have to become serious) and my journal ("Yesterday, hot. Today, still hot with a veneer of grumpy") and a few dishes and cones of ice cream.
The only thing that is thriving right now (besides the energy company) is this pumpkin vine which I swear doubles in size overnight.
So I make more sun tea (lemongrass, ginger, hibiscus and spearmint), venture out after dusk and before dawn to water the garden and walk the dog, dream of rainy days (no, really, I've been dreaming I am standing outside in rainstorm which right now surpasses any Ewan McGregor dream and that is something I never imagined could happen!) and wait for the day when thoughts and motivation no longer melt away by 10 AM .
Waving to you all from my couch where I am just chillin', breathing and being. Waiting for this steamy interlude to be over. Contemplating what constitutes my dharma, my joy, and hoping for the energy to resume my journey towards it.
Which reminds me ... time for my 4 PM ice cream