My garden is looking so HOT and SO TIRED. The dirt is hard-packed, and the plants look like they are just enduring the heat and hoping desperately for a reprieve. Their leaves hang dejectedly and any blooms are limp and sad. Every blade of grass has curled in on itself in an effort to conserve what little moisture they can find. I walk around and offer small and probably insufficient gifts from the hose and watering can. Then I go in and check the last page of the Metro section in the AAS to see if there is any hope of rain in the foreseeable future. (20% chance of rain=no). I know I should spend more time out there digging up those dastardly ivy-like weeds that are the bane of my existence. They grow up strong and vigorous and are seemingly oblivious to the heat, as they wind their evil selves around the plants I care about. I work for a while in a half-hearted and apologetic way, because I know that I am not really going to relieve the garden of its burden of heat and drought.