Mad Dog

What could be more exquisite on a hot summer day than sitting in the shade of a palm tree luxuriating in the caress of a gentle breeze? Which means, of course, that I went on yet another of my "death marches" to Hell (oops, I mean Kihei) and back. I felt a little light-headed on my return, but considering how little is up there, that was no surprise. I guess Coward was wrong. It isn't only mad dogs and Englishmen that go out in the midday sun, but also demented bloggers.