Friday Sonoma was 106 degrees in the Square and 108 up at our ranch. And suddenly our terriers, who are usually in perpetual motion, started resembling those Southern hound dogs. You know the ones that lie around on the porch and watch Cletus clean his gun. In that spirit, Lucy is saying, “Pass me a Sasparilla”.
Oh, and there’s no air conditioning in the barn or the living loft. But through the magic of good design, the space was a cool and breezy 98 degrees.
Here’s Oscar prostrated by heat.
