I don’t know what the temperature is, but it is humidity. Fortunately, this was not one of my fast walks; this was a posture walk. That doesn’t necessarily mean it was more pleasant, because in a posture walk I pretend a BIG fishhook is going around my breast bone and a line angled upward is pulling me forward. Actually, there is no exterior pull, which is harder to imagine than the fishhook circling my sternum, believe it or not.
My Predator/Reaper hat I inherited from my husband, who is not my late husband, and so I guess I didn’t inherit it, I was given it . . . are you will me still? . . . Well, that hat got soaked with sweat. I’m going to quit droning on and have some iced tea.