Farenheit 451 (approximate heat index)

Its hot here.  Freakin' hot.  Its our first day over 100 degrees and it never feels like something that should be celebrated.  You can always tell when the weather gets this warm and its so unbearably hot that animals will do most anything you want them to, just to get it over, done with, and out of the blasted heat. 

I was reminded of this just a few moments ago.  All of us (Wesley, myself, Loop and Laurie) have been outside all day (baling, swathing, basking, and digging up my flower beds.  In that order.).  As I mentioned before, its freakin' hot.  (Sorry for using that word so much, Grandma, but it just is.)  I finally got to the house and was ready to walk into the kitchen door with the two girls close behind.  We have a rule that they must not burst through the doors, rather, they must sit on their bottoms and show their manners before being allowed inside the house.  Normally I have to remind them of this rule.  Today, I grabbed the doorknob and turned around to remind them gently, "manners," but both girls were thinking ahead.  Not only were they sitting down, they had sprawled out with everything from their chin to the tip of their tail on the floor.  Heat, apparently, makes you mind your manners. 

Now for a Golden Girls moment: Picture it- Sumner County, Kansas, circa 1998.  (I always love it when Sophia says that.)

I was around 14 years old and my dad had gotten a pair of huge paint geldings to break for some friends one summer.  We had worked with them several times and they always had abounding energy.... if you get my drift.  One hot day in July, much like today, Dad and I hooked up Nub and Bub to a disc and he sent me out in the field with them.  Normally "whoa" was a word that they didn't respond to heartily, but on that day I remember that I barely had to begin the "wh..." and they were already at a dead stop.  Apparently, heat makes you mind your manners. 

I finally made it back to my grandad's yard late in the afternoon.  It probably wasn't more than 45 minutes that I was out in the field with the team but it felt more like an eternity.  All three of us were quite tired and dripping with sweat when we parked it under a shade tree by the breeding stall in Grandad's yard.  Dad was there waiting for me.  I remember my grandad trotting over from his house at a pretty brisk pace, asking if we were going to be there for a minute.  I also remember thinking that he was crazy - I didn't have energy to move another inch. 

He trotted back across the yard to his garden and returned with a watermelon.  We - Grandad, Dad and I, cut into that watermelon and it was the most juicy, refreshing thing I had ever eaten in the world.  I remember the juice running all down my chin and how great that sticky juice felt running down my neck and chest.  I didn't care how gross and sticky I was getting.  It was cool and it was good.  The three of us didn't, and still don't, hang out all that much all together at one time.  That afternoon was one of the most perfect memories I have of us all together. 

Its funny what triggers my memory.  Today, seeing how our girls didn't want to fight the heat and minded their manners before even being asked really set me back about 14 years today, thinking about that team and watermelon with Dad and Grandad.  I don't mind the heat so much when I think back to that afternoon...