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Melting

I don't know how our Peasant Ancestors did it without air conditioning. It's 97 today, and even the dog (who's got a pretty swank life, to be sure) is refusing to go outside. OK, so he's a long-hair golden/something mix, but really. Too hot for a dog?

And what about the little kiddies? After trying to eat lunch out on the patio of a local restaurant yesterday, you should have seen poor Mali Zubs, all miserable and magenta-cheeked until we finally gave up and moved to a table inside. By that time, he was already good and heat-rashed, the poor little bugger.

Which made me wonder about all those little Peasant Children from yesteryear, and how they did it. I mean, it's not like their parents were able to pack them in ice or anything to lessen their pain. (Not like a lot of my relatives have ice boxes, or anything. Then again, they don't really have many teeth, either.)

At any rate, I can't help but think of the Wicked Witch of the West on a day like today, especially that great scene from The Wizard of Oz where she melts before our very eyes.

"I'm melting...."

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on June 20, 2007 2:17 PM.

The previous post in this blog was The Peasant Test.

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