On the first day of summer, I reverted to my warm weather routine in the morning.  After John and I walked, I turned on the recirculating pump in the angel fountain and sat down to read the newspaper on the front porch.  We’ve decided that’s about the only way I can enjoy the sound, because after half an hour or so, the fountain begins to leak.  It’s an odd job, being the guardian of an angel.  You’d think a concrete angel would be tough enough to take care of herself.  Several times I forgot to turn off the pump, and I came back to hear desperate sucking noises from that angel.  Without me, her heart would fail.

I had gotten quite warm while walking, so cooling down beside the fountain seemed inviting.  I followed the usual pattern, reading all the headlines and continuing with an article only if I were interested.  We take the Asheville paper, which is like the New York Times in one way only – the size of the paper it is printed on.  As I finished the comics, I realized I was cold, almost shivering, in fact.  Jeans and a light cotton top didn’t have many insulating qualities.

Going inside, I said to John, “I’m glad this is Monday when the paper is tiny, because I’m nearly frozen.”

He laughed, realizing I stayed outside until I finished reading it.  He replied, “That’s not surprising.  It was 50 degrees when we left the house, you know.”

Brrrrr!  Do you think I need to get the angel a coat?