It’s here. Summer in the Southland. At first this may conjure up romanticized visions of sipping iced tea on the porch and catching fireflies in mason jars. There are long lazy afternoons in the hammock and days spent at the lake. Every crossroad has a vegetable stand manned by the farmer’s wife herself selling their wares and homemade peach ice cream is an essential. And while all of these things seem beautiful and simple they are NOT the true representation of a deep South summer. Not even a little bit. There is only one word that can accurately describe this experience…. Moist. While I know so many people have an aversion to that very word I assure you that hearing the word is