I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Ugghhh! Yuck!
Me: Uh-oh. That sounds serious.
Stella: Huh – huh – huh – huh – huh – huh.
Me: The air conditioner is on. The sun is going down. It will be cooler soon.
Stella: Allow me to wax eloquent.
Me: Be my guest.
Stella: The hot air is heavy, heavy like a thick, wet blanket. It is pressing down, heavy, heavy.
Me: That’s the way I felt about summer when I was a kid running around outside. A hot, heavy, wet blanket. Of course, that was in Beaumont and when I would visit my cousins in Houston…
Stella: Lady Human, with all due respect to your distant puppy-hood, this is my story. Please let me tell it.
Stella: The heat rises. It descends to my feet. There is no place where its heaviness is not felt. No corner to hide in. Even the air in the shade is hot.
Me: It’s only 96 degrees. It has been hotter.
Stella: Lady Human!
Stella: Where is the blessed cool of winter when we need it?
Me: Probably about four months off. And blessed cool? What about those days when the temperature falls to the teens and everything freezes and…?
Stella: Lady Human!!
Stella: Summer, summer, go away. Come again some icy day. Little Stella wants to play. The End.
Me: Do you feel better now?
Stella: Yes. Getting all that hot air out of me has cooled me off.
Copyright 2019 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.