"Take heede heerafter what you doe in dog-daies." - The Trimming of Thomas Nashe Gentleman by Don Richard de Medico campo, 1597
In the dog days, it is said, ancient Romans made sacrifices to appease the hot wrath brought on by the appearance of the summer sky's dog star, Sirius. Under that star, the sea boiled, rivers swelled, wine soured, and men were sure to die a slow, feverish death. Real dogs, can you believe it, laid listless in the shade all day and refused to budge, presumably in fear of savage Sirius.
Our dog days here have been less dramatic. We hole up inside during the steamy, jungle-like midday, coming out to the porch to be awed and revived by the occasional afternoon thunderstorm. Dinners are whatever requires little to no cooking, followed by a float in the lake, which is warm like bathwater.
I myself haven't ventured much deeper than knee-height into that dark lake with its mysterious splashes and wide, ringed ripples; I'm waiting for confirmation (from what, I don't know) that nothing in there will find me highly edible. It's on my summer bucket list, though, along with canoeing down the nearby river and finding a good icebox cake recipe to try.
What's on your summer bucket list? The dog days are growing darker.