Week 3 of triple-digit temperatures has kept me either in the air-conditioned house or at the beach. My garden is fried, my perennials refuse to rebloom, my roses are crispy, my annuals are droopy, and I’m dreading the county fair, which starts tomorrow. I don’t have to spend the time there that my kids do, with 4H and Rodeo Queening and cowboywatching, but my mouth is dusty just thinking about it.
Our big girls and their friends had a beat-the-heat party yesterday with a waterfight, ice cream, and a movie projected on the wall in the dark, cool basement. Unless I was taking pictures, I sat inside at the window, eating black licorice and laughing at the water-balloon bombings, sneak attacks, and up-your-nose-with-a-garden-hose antics. Here are some highlights:
Ahhhh, yeeaaahhhh . . . . . .