“Well, Lucy looks like another scorcher.”

“Yeah, Little one. It’s going to be a high of 106 today. That’s over 41 C to our metric friends.”

“So we have something in common with those folks in London.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately for them, they usually have a high of about 70 F this time of year. That’s around 21 degrees C.”

“Goodness. We’re used to sitting on Hell’s back porch. Those folks must be suffering.”

“I don’t think these temperatures are very healthy. But, look at us still standing here.”

“I hear you, but who wants to go out there and have to do the hot coal shuffle.”

“Good point, Little one. As for me, I think a nice lay down in the A/C is next on the agenda.”

“Whew. It is hard to catch a breath today.”

“With the humidity, you can add at least 8 degrees to the temperature.”

Aww, that is just insane.  How can we play in this kind of weather?”

“I think we need to take it inside.”

“I’m beginning to wonder about the lack of exercise.”

“There are still walks in the morning and doing a world-class ruckus in the house.”

“And drive the rents crazy in the process.”

“Yeah, the poor things are collateral damage.”

“You coming? Mom’s on her way to the door.”

“Yeah. One more sniff of the air and one more kiss from the sun.”

“You gotta stop reading those poetry blogs.”

“We playing ball today, Little One.”

“Well, it is the right ball this time, but it is so hot out here.”

“You are so right. I think I’m getting sweat in my eyes.”

“That’s pretty funny since you don’t sweat. I’m heading for the A/C.”

“We are supposed to exercise.”

“Not in temperatures of 106 F. That’s 41.1 C for our metric friends.”

“I don’t know if you will get anyone to let you in.”

“Mom is always good about ensuring we don’t get too hot.”

“Mom is at the store.”

“OMG. Let me break the fourth wall.”

“And do what?”

“Have someone call 9-1-1 and tell them we are suffering from heat stroke.”

“Hey, folks. Twiggy has a flair for the dramatic. We’ve only been out here for four minutes.”

“Well, speak for yourself. Seems like four hours to me.”

“Why don’t you give it the old ‘I have been wounded’ howl.”

“Don’t tempt me. Wait, someone’s coming.”

“There you go. Now a cool place. You are saved.”

“Do I sense dark sarcasm in the classroom?”

“Okay, everyone. It looks like another disaster has been averted.”

“I can hear you.”

“You comfy now?”

“Yes, I am.”

“In fact, it’s downright delicious.”

“So glad.”

“Well, little one. What do you think?”

“Whew, it is pretty hot.”

“But it is only going to get worse later.”

“I know, but that ole A/C feels pretty good.”

“Come on, let’s check out the patio.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. That place will be even hotter.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Who turned on the blowtorch?”

“Maybe if the umbrella was open, it would be okay.”

“I’m in the shade, and it doesn’t seem much cooler.”

“Which reminds me to get off this hot concrete. I will start doing the hot foot tango in a minute.”

“If I touch my nose to the patio, it doesn’t seem that hot.”

“Yeah, it is much nicer here. ”

“You are right about the hot foot situation.”

“I don’t think the patio is going to work today.”

“Even these limestone pavers seem hot.”

“I’m going to go and smell the flowers.”

“I think you are smart. But, why do you remind me of Ferdinand the bull?”

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s my gentle nature.”

“That must be it. A big thing smelling flowers has nothing to do with it.”

“I think it is going to be an inside day today. Supposed to get to 100 F degrees. That’s over 37 C degrees for our metric friends.

“I kinda like the Celcius scale. It seems so much cooler.”

“I sure hate to miss a day of playing outside.”

“Yeah, but think of the idea of no-fault napping.”

“Excellent point.”

“Mmmm, this air feels good.”

“Excuse me, ladies. Could we either go in or out? I don’t think we need to air-condition the whole block.

“Yes, dad. We are coming in.”

“Hey, Lucy. Where you going?”

“To the patio to catch some rays.”

“Do you happen to take a look at your shadow?”

“Shadow. What shadow?”

That’s what I mean. No sun.”

“Yeah, but a nice laydown would feel good.”

“The laydown didn’t work out, huh?”

“You were right about the sun. Where did it go?”

“Saharian dust, I’m afraid.”

“Saharian dust? What the heck is Saharian dust.”

“You know you could listen to the evening news instead of snoring out after dinner.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, dust from the Saharian desert blows over Texas every June and July.”

“So what happens to the sun?”

“It gets blocked. So, it is like a cloudy day only dust-filled.”

“I never paid attention. But, hey, look over there. Some sun coming through the windows.”

“If you can wait until tomorrow, the wind will change, and the dust will be blown out.”

“What’s wrong with the little bit of sun now?”

“Well, nothing, I suppose. It’s going to be in and out, though.”

“Look, I can see your shadow.”

“Maybe there will be six more weeks of Saharian dust then.”

“I don’t know, kid. I think the patio might be a bit hot.”

“It looks cool. The umbrella is up.”

“Well, okay, let’s give it a shot.”

“I like those lounges a lot. A girl can stretch out and be comfortable.”

“They look pretty inviting for sure.”

“That shade is going to feel good.”

“You are right, Little One. This feels good.”

“I’m telling you I have a sixth sense about what is good for goofing off.”

“Do you smell that?”

“I sure do. That scent screams puma for sure.”

“I don’t see anything around here.”

“I’m going back into the potting place. Maybe I’ll scare something up.”

“What is is, Little one?”

“Don’t wait around, Lucy. The thing is as big as a car.”

“What thing are you talking about.”

“A red-eyed puma zombie, that’s what.”

“Hey, wait for me. Little One. It’s tough outrunning a puma zombie.”

“I’m not worried about outrunning the puma zombie.”

“What are you trying to outrun then?”

“You.”

“So Lucy. What went on here?”

“Looks like a big storm moved through last night.”

“I can’t believe there are so many sticks. It’s like I’ve gone to heaven.”

“Look at this beauty. Could be classified as a log.”

“I really don’t know where to start.”

“I feel your pain. This is almost too much stick overload.”

“What is down there?”

“A bunch of leaves and a branch off the China berry tree. Not many sticks.”

“I have one just my size. Mmmm.”

“Go easy. You know Mom hates you to chew stuff from the yard.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to keep it low-key for sure.”

“I thought I heard mom coming out.”

“I know she hates it when I choke on stick pieces.”

“Yeah, it was a false alarm. Keep chewing.”

You aren’t much for stick chewing, are you?”

“I never find any that taste good.”

“Try that live oak. It starts with the essence of plum and finishes on a pear note.”

“Uh. I think I’ll stick to chew toys.”

“Whew, that one made my eyes water.”

“What was it?”

“Stupid ash. They are kind of bitter. Uh oh. I hear mom.”

“Head for the porch. We’ll pretend we want inside.”

“Sticks? Mom. What sticks? Oh, you mean those on the turf.”

“Yeah, we hardly noticed them. I guess we had a storm last night.”

“Sure, Mom. We’ll stay away from them.”

“Butter wouldn’t melt in our mouth. We are so cool about those sticks.”