Another day, another heat index

6:40 am, it’s 81 degrees.
Tula nestled into the coolest bed in the house – other than mine with the AC unit groaning in the window. I feel like my skin has candy melted all over it or sea salt, a taffy mixture. Pat is leaving for the day – upriver and I’ll be working while thinking of him swimming with bald eagles, neck-deep in cool muddy water. I’m sure our catfish has moved on, passed on, carried on. I still see it’s smoky eye glancing up at me. My hope for Pat today is to catch fish and release them, to kayak upstream and float down, to have a beer or two and then lots of water, to watch water move.
And now that he’s up – “Share a cup of coffee with me?” The idea of sipping anything warm right now makes me sweat already. But how do you say no? Why would I want to?

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