*Author’s note. I had an old satchel under my night stand; covered with 20 plus years of dust. It contained page after page of stories I had started. This is one example.
In my forty-six years of walking this earth, I’ve only met one person that claimed not to have a celebrity crush. All I can say is that he’s a better man than I am a woman. There are several on my list. Either because his voice, looks, did an amazing job in a roll, or sometimes that actor just touches something inside me that I identify with.
Kentucky is my home. I’ve lived here all my life. Never really dreamed about living any other place. If you’re unfamiliar with Kentucky, our summers are breath taking – literally. For those of us that live here, it feels like from mid June to September, our humidity levels are off the charts. One local weather forecaster calls it “air you can wear.” Air conditioning is our friend.
July had been a horrible month for me. Everything that could break down, tear up, blow up, or deflate did. Work was beyond busy and I had ended up working late every day.
My chores were neglected. I just knew one of my neighbors would call the health department. It was that bad.
I needed a break. A break from life, the heat, work, even my dog was working my last nerve.
On this particular day, I was about to cry. Work had sucked the life out of me.
Already hot, tired, and covered with dirt, I open the door to leave work and got smacked in the face with 96% humidity. Gross! There is no way my car is getting cool in the less than ten minute commute.
A cold shower is calling my name.
Someone, anyone, tell me to go jump in the lake.
As I pull into the drive, imagine my surprise when I see my celebrity crush mowing my yard.
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