Hot.

Oh, man. It's been kinda hot for the past couple of weeks, but nothing really worth complaining about and we always had a nice evening breeze to cool things down for sleeping. Now it's 11:30, I just finished three and a half hours raking, shit-shoveling, trailer-emptying and tree-watering in the hot sun, and I come home to find it's 94 degrees INDOORS. By high desert standards that's hot. The work schedule says I should be baking bread but that's not going to happen. Afternoon playing on the 'pooter is now truncated by the overheat fan going on in the inverter. That never used to happen.

There's cold beer in Landlady's fridge, courtesy of M. Think I'll go see if it's lonely.