negotiating with the hostiles one sippy cup at a time
A Summer Home in Antarctica
Last night the thermometer on my car read 108. Words are not sufficient to describe the churning hate I have towards summers here. Just the thought of going through another season of 110+ heat makes me want to grab whatever items are nearest to me and make a run for it... not stopping until I hit... Canada.... Alaska... Antarctica? Sorry, loyal readers, but I probably won't stop whining about the cruel mistress that is this heat until November.