Desiccated To The Ones We Love

I just have to say this.

For everyone who caterwauled during the lovely blizzards that we enjoyed in early February, and the near-blizzard that gave us a White Christmas last December, now look at what you've gone and done. Everyone picked on the snow, and it got its feelings hurt, and drifted away.

The Baltimore region usually experiences (suffers through somehow) 26 days of 90°+ temperatures per year. This year, we have had over 30 such hellish days, and we just passed the middle of July.

In the winter, one can always put on more clothing, add a sweater, get some wool sox (red, please) and maybe a jacket or so.

In summer, it's often said, there is a limit of how much clothing can sensibly be removed without attracting attention of the wrong sort.

But, here's a point: how does it come that, as soon as nature sends us the first crisp day in November, just a couple of weeks since we were all air-conditioning our spaces to 74°, people break their necks to turn on the heat and make it warmer than 74°?

We can worry about that after the leaves change. Whoa, they already have begun to change here. It must be the time of year known as "Indian Autumn," when desiccated leaves plummet earthward in July because the trees are taking off as much clothing as they can.

It's all the talk of the town. People's pools are hardly cooling oases, warmed by the relentless heat. TV news crews are keeping the bears at the zoos busy, showing that "these guys really know how to beat the heat!"

Worse, I read on the news that the heat in Kansas is taking an awful toll on the cattle industry. The price of beef will be going up! While we all roast! I'm not ribbing you! I've milked this for all it's worth!