Humorously, as I sat at my desk in the office yesterday, as every visitor entered, they noted, after the customary greeting, how hot it was outside. Most of the visitors had either come by car or braved crossing the road from the neighboring Town office. It had rained earlier in the morning and as the sun came out it turned to humidity. Hell is hot, but it's a dry heat; the air in the Board of Education was unmoveable, leaving my skinpores gasping for air. Friday's work seemed to crawl to a standstill and sounds became muffled. In the afternoon, someone came in and offered us something. I knew he wasn't a farmer because he didn't give me vegetables. The nice man from town council had thoughfully brought everyone ice cream! Lately, I have sworn off ice cream but I have to admit, yesterday - that cholocate fudgesicle really hit the spot. It tasted wonderful. Work competely stopped at this point because, in this heat, a quickly melting popcicle is no match for multi-tasking. Everyone, focused, raced to eat their icy treat. Here is a picture of me, looking decidedly serious, though internally ecstatic by the miraculous appearence of ice cream in my hands.
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