Torrid temperatures take their toll

“Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon after their three o’clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum. The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer.”

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

dry dry dryI love a good sci-fi film, a nail-biting apocalyptic flick or an edge-of-your-seat creature-feature.

Hubby and I often make up storylines – one such tale featured a family of hikers on the run from a scourge of stealthy blood-sucking giant mosquitos, the result of nuclear testing gone wrong.

I fleetingly imagined getting a call from Steven Spielberg about this one. Continue reading Torrid temperatures take their toll