August

My cousin's grandmother told us that when she was young, in the summertime her mother would lay a white sheet out in the yard, sit the children on it and tell them to "play quietly." There's really nothing else you can do in the kind of heat we've been having. I've been veering toward long and three quarter sleeve shirts rather than tank tops to keep the sun off my skin. Bailey just looks at me like "you want me to do what?" when I try to take her outside. I wish everyone could experience the deafening sound of the cicadas that takes over in the evening. I mean loud. The grass is all brown, but there are still flowers blooming and thriving because they were made for this kind of weather - zinnias and sunflowers and morning glories and hollyhocks.  I like to think I was made for it, too.