Day breaks before 6 these days, and I get up with the sun in order to do chores,
walk Smooch and ride Lucy before it gets too hot.
The weekend temperatures were ridiculous, and it was too hot by 9,
wicked hot by 10, and stay-in-the air-conditioned-house-hot by 11.
I emerged only to check on the animals.
George and Alan both managed to rub off their grazing muzzles
on the stall pipes Saturday afternoon, so I took the hint and instituted
a "no grazing muzzles during a heat wave" policy.
It's not like they're out eating when it's this hot anyway.
They know that they can always catch a breeze
if they stand in the back doorways of the barn.
They also know that if they stick close to home and look pathetic,
they will be