Feline days of summer

Peggy Lee’s rendition of Summertime, a belly full of fresh peaches, and a pair of pets seeking solace reminds me of why I dislike traveling. I’m afraid I’ll miss something. Even the hot July and August days ahead.

Lots of folks make a beeline for cooler climates for a week or a couple of months at a time.

Yes, I’m pretty wimpy about the heat. I’m old enough to remember homes, automobiles, and schools without air conditioning and it was absolute misery. Especially after an afternoon thunderstorm. And isn’t it interesting that we don’t have many of those anymore…

But abandoning Arkansas in summer means missing fresh peaches, sweet corn, and blueberries and home-grown tomatoes, cucumbers, and okra.

There’s something to be said about knowing the rhythm of a place. Its seasons — temperatures, climates, traditions, and tastes.

We joke about complaining when it’s too hot or too cold. Personally, I love the sweltering heat — but only because I don’t hafta work in it. I love the idea of kids playing in neighborhood pools. The smell of chorine and the feel of slightly pink skin. Napping to the rhythm of a major league baseball game. The smell of freshly-cut grass. And crawling into cool, clean sheets with a metal-bladed fan whispering a few feet away.

As long as the air conditioner is working.

It’s hard to imagine living in a place where the temperature is the same every day.

But I wonder if maybe Principi is dreaming of such a place…

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Stay cool, cats. Enjoy the fresh produce and drink lots of water. Triple digits are coming.

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