Too Hot To Homestead

All is quiet on the ranch tonight. We hit 96 degrees today, which is crazy hot for a beach town in which few places (stores, restaurants, and houses alike) have air conditioning. It was too hot to bake bread, too hot to make cheese, too hot to sew, too hot to play the guitar. I gave the puppies a bath outside. They pretended to hate it, but I could tell that they felt refreshed. Fenway, the Jack Russell, chased the water spraying from the hose and did little leaps in the mist. The Wrangler ate half a watermelon and is watching golf re-runs (don't ask) on TV with two fans pointed on him. All said, there are worse ways to spend a Sunday evening. I'm not complaining. Yet.