First, apologies for my silence. Too many people, too many distractions, not enough time, etc. etc. etc. No excuse. I’ve become a lazy bum in this heat and have a hard enough time dragging my tail out of bed by 6:30 a.m., much less trying to be clever and creative with words, pictures and posts first thing in the morning.
So I’m a slug. No excuse. Just that. There it is. And proud of it too. It’s good to slug around once in a while. We who live in the guilt of the perpetual Puritan ethic of work work work and “time off is the devil’s workshop,” or however that saying goes, need to shift our gears and head for the hammock, which is where I am going right after posting this blog. I’m doing a wash right now and will hang it on the line so all the neighbors can see my linens and my frugality… but after the guilt has been assuaged, it will be a pleasure to swing slowly in the hot breeze under the shady beech tree in back, bottled water in hand, a good book and only the sound of pounding hammers from the guys next door putting on a new roof.
You think you’ve got issues with the heat? Imagine being on top of a house pounding nails into shingles… Maybe I’ll take the garden hose to them to help them out… but nah, those guys are probably used to it… of course, one did just fall off into the bushes and I heard another swear as he fell… so there must be some limit to how much heat a body can stand. (Only kidding… no heat stroke allowed amongst roofers from the Puritanical northeast. Hammer, hammer, hammer, sweat, sweat, sweat. Die. die. die! if you ask me.)
I for my part, spent the morning in Yarmouth, Cape Cod, taking a golf lesson. It’s true, I’m addicted to the sport. But it was too hot to be out there on the driving range. I tried to retain all that the instructors tried to tell me… but it’s all a blur right now. Perhaps after a little hammock time it will come back to me.
Stay cool, people. TTFN.