I know I should hate it, should be hunkering down indoors with a cool drink and the AC ratcheted to 72, but it's summer, after all, and I think about how cold our winters have been lately and how really, truly, sweatily alive I feel when pulling weeds in a buggy backyard with the sun beating down on my back.
Weird, to be true, but something I dream about when the cold winds blow. Which they will ... soon enough.
(What's blowing these grasses isn't a cold wind but a hot breeze.)