Or as we've termed it around our house - just another day on the ranch. Seriously - I think we'd rather celebrate the 25th of July which (beyond being my youngest sister's birthday) was the day the pioneers set to making the Salt Lake Valley habitable by clearing land, building settlements and planting crops before it became too late in the season to do these things. It's nearly the same thing around here, except we enjoy doing yard work and pulling weeds ("we" is a term I use loosely in this case, btw).
As the great Sheldon Cooper once said (and I'm paraphrasing because there's no way I could get this 100% right just off the top of my head) - why go outdoors when mankind has spent so much time perfecting the indoors? That is doubly true of July in Utah where the atmosphere becomes roughly the same temperature and consistency as the surface of the sun. It's ridiculous, to be honest. My ancestors came from Scandinavia where the sun shines for about six hours out of the entire year and we have the pale, pasty complexions to prove it (if species are supposed to evolve to their surroundings, how come mine and my family's skin still blends in with printer paper? Shouldn't we be darkening up to adapt to the oppressive desert sunlight? I wish it'd get on with it because all this trying to avoid sunburn is really annoying).
I hate summertime. Whoever decided that the sun was the symbol of hope and goodness is an idiot. Shade and shadows are so much more hopeful - the sun is just oppressive.
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