It's eighty degrees out and not at all humid. The sun is out, and the breeze off the lake is merely comfortable. As it's the middle of July, these sorts of things need to be savored. So I spent my lunch hour reading a book in the park. Frankly, this is the way things are supposed to be.
Remind me of all this when it's negative ten, and I'm hanging from my garage door, trying to use my body weight to get it to close.
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