I remembered playing outside in the heat, not thinking anything of it. Dirt rings wrapped around my neck, and you’d have to call me in or I’d stay out there forever. We didn’t have air conditioning and I’d stand in front of the attic fan talking to it so I could hear my voice sound like a robot.
I worked out in the garden for a while, probably had a dirt ring around my neck but I praised the Gods when I stepped foot in the air condition house.
Dad loved this kind of heat and would sit outside all day long if you let him even as he aged. I guess that’s the farmer blood in him. I know I have that blood too but as I get older, the less I’m able to tolerate the hotter weather.
Working in the yard helped exercise not only my body, but my writing brain. I came in, showered and pulled out my pen and paper. I might need to do more yard work to keep me inspired. Just like pulling out the excess growth in the yard, I pulled out the excess writing material and now my story has a new look.
before: after: before: after: