Yesterday's sore throat is heading straight toward the inevitable: losing my voice. I finished reading my current book, and took a long nap at noon. It was 90 degrees when I got up, hot enough that the deck scorched DWs feet when he went out barefoot. Mike dropped off the pasture sprayer; the nearly two acres that we mow need some TLC this summer. First up, herbicide before the weeds go dormant. It will be the first time for that in a couple of decades; DW always said he hated to encourage the grass to grow any faster than it already does. (Mowing the grass is not one of his favorite things to do.)
We're both wilting in the heat, and decided to wait for it to cool down before we head off to find a cache. So I went back to bed for another nap. When it dropped to a tolerable 88 degrees, we picked an easy cache near home. No hiking for either of us today.
Not in any hurry to head home to a hot farmhouse (or to even think about cooking), we decided that BLT's sounded good. Just around the corner was a place that has been around since high school, with great food and cold beer. Not a bad way to end a hot summer day.