Skip to main content

I'm Hot

Summer has started early here it seems.

For the record, I am not pleased. It's hot. It's not supposed to be 90 degrees here in May.

No, it's not. This violates all the laws of....well, the laws to which I adhere. It's awful and it's hot and it's not right. Did I mention the whole awful thing?

So hubby decides to mow the lawn. At noon. High Noon. You know, when the sun is supposed to be hottest. The man is courting a stroke. I was in our bedroom, air conditioning running full tilt, playing a game of Nintendo with Ally when he texts me and says to come look out the front window upstairs. This is what we saw:


Aha! I knew it! He wasn't mowing, he'd forced our daughter to do it for him! Shame, shame, shame!

Ok, she was doing it of her own free will. She's still young enough to think things like that are an enjoyable experience in high heat and humidity.


  1. Still using child labour huh!
    what a strange world we live in :-)

  2. I must agree with you Pammy... you are totally hot! :)

    I have tried and tried to get my hubby to switch to desert landscaping in the backyard but he, like your sweet daughter, continues to find mowing the lawn in Arizona summers pleasurable... either that or he is a total masochist.

    Hugs and hope you are doing well!

  3. Well, one might suggest that it's people with huge cars and air conditioning that are causing global warming so they only have themselves to blame.

    But of course, I'd never suggest such a thing.

  4. Steve, yes. Yes we are. Child labor, especially within the family, saves us tons of money and time.

    Kindness, you're sweet. I'm definitely hot, just not in that way. I'm more crypt-keeper-ish of late.

    Dave, no, you'd never say such things and that's one of the things we love about you.


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…

I'm Sick. And the election isn't helping.

I spoke too soon about feeling better. My grandson was delightful enough to share his virus with me, so I've spent the past five days losing everything from both ends. It hasn't been pretty.

As a weight loss program though...

At least one end of me has stopped spewing. Now I wait for the other end to stop pretending to be filled with hot lava and erupting without much notice. Sorry, this is what is called over-sharing. Apparently I'm very good at it. You're welcome.

Last night I walked around the block with hubby and our adorable puppy. It was the first time I've been out of the house in five days. It was lovely, even though I was very shaky. Today I actually tried to accomplish something. I sat at my jewelry table, moved my seaglass around. Picked up pieces and played them through my hands. Such beautfy that came from something considered useless garbage and tossed away. I love my sea glass. It gives me the happies.

I also had a severe case of J…