July in Missouri is hot. Sometimes it’s hot and wet, and other times it’s hot and dry, but it’s always hot.

Your garden may drown or it may bake, but it will not be chilled. Until now.

Normal overnight lows for July are 70’s and 80’s. Day time temperatures often climb into the triple digits. As I write this, it is about 9:30 in the evening, and the temperature is 59 degrees. I think the high today was 60. For the second time in a week, the temperatures have been way below normal. According to my mother (who just called) the news said that the July temperatures haven’t been this low since sometime in the 1800’s. On top of that, there has been a slow drizzle all day.

Personally, I love the cooler temperatures. Well, maybe my knees aren’t that crazy about it, but the rest of me loves it. However, I don’t think my garden is very happy. It is already struggling from too much rain, as well as some good old fashioned neglect from Ed and I, but that’s another blog post.

Tonight, being Wednesday, I went to the ladies Bible study at my church. Entering the house afterward, I heard Katherine holler,

“Mom, be careful!”

“Why?” I asked, expecting to hear something about a wet floor or broken glass.

“Meeko is in here. I saw him out in the front yard, so I brought him in the house. I didn’t put him back because I don’t know how he got out.” About that time, our seventy pound canine Houdini bounded out of the kitchen to greet me.

Lovely. Ed will be so thrilled. “Ok”, I told her, “Let me go try to see where he got out”. I trudged (yes, trudged…think tall, wet, hay/grass) out to the dog’s enclosure. I had a second of panic when I didn’t see Libby right away, thinking she might be out too, but she was still there.

I went in with her and walked the fence line. I found what I thought was probably where he had gone over, and noticed the strand of barbed wire was down. I put it back, went back to the house, grabbed two dog biscuits and Meeko (he just followed me), put him back, gave both dogs the treat, and headed back to the house.

“Squish, squish, squish!” Oh the wonderful sound of sopping wet tennis shoes. Actually, I was soaked to the knees. Yes, I love cool weather; I do not, however, love cool, wet, weather!

Connie