It’s hotter than two rabbits screwin’ in a wool sock!

I wasn't going to whine about the weather this summer. I wasn't going to go on and on about the relentless heat and humidity or the fact that it's been over ninety degrees every day for the last five weeks. It's been a very strange June here in South Florida. It's supposed to be the rainy season, and June is supposed to be the rainiest month of the year. Yet it has only rained twice on my house as far as I can remember. You would think that with the high humidity and heat it would rain. But no, it's only been hotter than spit on a grill, and we can't even say "It's a dry  heat" like those desert dwellers out west. But like I said, I don't want to be a complainer. I don't want to cry about the high body odor factor here in the summer months. I'm used to the old men who smell like goats wandering around the grocery store, soaking in all that free air conditioning. I've become numb to the fact that at ten at night, when I walk Chandler, it is still over eighty degrees and the humidity has actually increased. Even the neighborhood cats have thrown in the towel. They just loll around under cars or on my swimming pool deck, panting and looking near death from the heat. But I wasn't going to complain about all those horrid heat related problems. No, I wasn't going to whine at all. Not until that rat died of heat stroke up in my attic somewhere. If you have never smelled  a dead rat, consider yourself lucky. I don't know how to describe it, but I'll try. Remember when you were a kid and you had a bad scrape on your knee or arm and your mom put a bandage on it, and then you ran outside to play all day in the heat of summer and you sweat like a little pig, and that bandage got all nasty but you didn't change it, and you didn't even change that bandage the next day until late in the evening? Remember the smell of that bandage when your mom finally pulled it off? Well take that smell, add the smell of rotten chicken, rotten cabbage, and old men with body odor who smell like goats, and you still don't have the aroma of a dead rat.