My friend and I met for dinner after work at a taco/burrito establishment. The music was loud, funky loud. Too loud to discuss our day's events over steak and carnitas tacos. I had the steak.
Yum!
Another view of these lovely tacos.
(Thank you, my sweet friend, for dinner!)
We found a spot on the patio underneath a ceiling fan. It was still hot. The fan stirred the warm humid air. No relief. My blouse clung to me, and I thought the backside of my skirt would be drenched. But the crispy tacos were good! All too soon they were gone. It was a crazy day at work, a cross between the Twilight Zone and the Land of Oz. I was glad it was done. Before my friend and I parted finished our meal with frozen yogurt at a nearby corner shop. When I got home, the sky blushed. Or perhaps it was already blushing.
Love is a wonderfully unexplainable thing. One can try to explain love--pare the exquisiteness of it's character down into a reduction of words. I suppose there is legitimate need to explain it, to sing of it, to herald it. If we can easily identify love, then I am sure we can also identity what it is not. It is not love when you beat someone over the head while they are in a world of hurt. Plain common sense and a little sensitivity could of advised a person to lay off and help. Love, people, is not so much in the saying as it is in the doing. Would you rather hear a sermon or see one in action?
I digress. Pink sky. That was yesterday. Today it rained. Finally. It poured. It was glorious. I didn't even mind getting my feet wet from walking in the parking lot to my car. The temperature dipped, and it was finally no longer hotter than hell.
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