Keep it Simple, Sweetheart

It is hot, do you believe it? Hot. I have the fan blowing to dispel the heavy air. There’s a golden, ethereal color to the light. Quite magical. Must be the storm clouds bending the early morning sunlight. It is spilled down into the courtyard and out over the pasture. I enjoyed watching a silly squirrel scamper around the gnarled branches of the pecan tree. His tail went like a propeller blade. I was amazed how he could go up onto the tips of the thinnest branches, plucking nuts from the lea...