Right now, our “Feels Like” temperature is just two degrees short of triple digits.

And it’s September!

I’ve always been an indoor cat, so there’s really nothing for me to complain about, as long as the air conditioning holds out longer than this heat wave.

Here’s a poem Dad wrote in his senior year of college.

This verse was published in the school’s literary periodical 75 years ago.

And it seems to fit:

Pessimism

The still-born day breaks in the East,
And casts its sickly light
O’er hill and dale; and ghostly pake,
Shoulders the burdens of nights.

The sordid air, teeming with things
That breathe of sickly death,
Hangs low, and demon-like, spreads everywhere
Its evil, sticky breath.

~ Harold E. Vayo ~ 1951

Here’s how the “real feel” is looking on my weather app:

In my search to find something positive to end today’s post with, I must confess the long-range forecast doesn’t do the trick.

Instead, I can report that this little weather gizmo – which is cute, but always wrong! – positioned near Gary’s chair in the sunroom is, for-today-and-today-only: correct.

Stay optimistic – and stay cool!

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“Pessimism” ©1951 Harold E. Vayo. All rights reserved.

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