Here is where I found puppy Whitman late yesterday afternoon, perched on the top steps of the swimming pool. At the time the temperature in Kansas City was 102 degrees F.
Today is going to top out at 104 degrees F., not fit weather for cooking inside. I, for one, am weary of salad, salad, salad, thus tonight I’m turning my covered grill into an oven and roasting a chicken.
I normally buy a 4-pound bird but had to settle for a 3-pounder. The butcher at the market said that in this hellish weather the local poultry farmer hasn’t been able to get his chickens to eat enough to gain weight.
Great. Chickens, among the dumbest creatures on earth, are doing better at weight maintenance than I am.