Was the thought that came to mind when I sat down, early this afternoon, at a friends wedding party. The lawn chair was hot, the wind beyond warm, the air still and thick with humid vapors. I hate hot. Here it is One September, where if still in my beloved western mountains I'd have been out in the cool rain filled forest hunting Grouse.
Anyhow, I'm too darn worn out and ticked off and HOT, still, to write. Where is the Fall weather. I'm sick of the wait. I want cold....cold and wind and apple cider and the scent of oak on a slow burn in my fireplace. I want cool windy days. I want to see some friggin leaves drop and coat my yard like a carpet of yellow rust.
Here I sit with our air conditioner set at sixty-nine degrees and I want to see frost on the pumpkin. I'm sick of three hundred dollar a month electric bills just so I can sleep, when sleep arrives. Stupid ceiling fan whirling away - what a waste.
Here we were, all gathered to honor a friend and his new wife, and all I can think about is perhaps a cold beer, slipped inside my trousers, might feel better than it should.
Perhaps I should leave the room.