I have not been too creative lately, much to my chagrin. I wish I could report details of our life with a creative spin that would have you rolling on the floor, or at the very least produce a wry grin, but it’s too hot, and I’m too tired.
Did I mention it’s hot? Imagine: 1936. No air conditioning. No good refrigeration. No freezer to stick your head into or from which to grab an ice cube or a popcicle. No deodorant. Only a tepid electric fan to move around the hot stale air. That’s the hottest summer on record. EVER.
But I’m almost that hot.