I'm at the Outer Banks this week and I'm ready to melt. One hundred plus degree temps the last two days and humidity so thick it feels like breathing through a mesh net. Fool that I am, I decided I was going to do a long run in this nonsense. I headed out the door aiming for 8 miles. Ten minutes in I decided six would be a more reasonable goal. I called it quits at 4 1/2, gasping for breath and ready to sell all my worldly possessions to anyone willing to offer me a sip of ice water.  This morning was a mere 89 degrees and it felt cool by comparison.

I'm hoping to get some writing done this week. I've brought a story with me I've been working on. I like my characters but I'm weak on plot. It helps if something actually happens in a story. Just a thought.

Meanwhile, I've got waves crashing outside my window, a boogie board waiting to be tested (pray for me), and gourmet goodies in the fridge.

Life is hot, but good.