The beautiful thing about spending the summer in the Midwest is that it makes me feel like a child.
Every single green tree and dense foliage and blue-black thunderstorm sky and country road makes me excited. Everywhere I go, I point out how green it is or something equally obvious. But I can't help it.
Even the heat here is different, and I already knew that.
But I hadn't experienced it.
I've never had a summer where people actually emerge and do things they can't during the rest of the year. In Arizona, we settle in for a long summer's hibernation (also known as aestivation, for all of you fools who didn't know).
But here, Farmer's Markets thrive and what few pools there are become over-crowded. Work out groups cover the high school football field, and someone is always running or walking a dog.
So far, Kansas, I'm loving you. Even though your heavy 90 degrees makes me feel like I can't even walk from the parking lot to work. Mimi is also to blame for that since her black exterior pretty much cooks me every time I even come near.
As I write this, I'm sitting in the porch and watching a shirtless, bearded old man water trees that don't need to be watered.
Madi came out and I asked her if that was normal.
"Normal for Lawrence," she said.

And there you have it.

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