Misery

Weather forecast says 102, 103, 104 all week long, no rain, no break in sight.

I *hate* this kind of weather.

The kid and I go to the library* every other day, huddle in the dusk of the living room through most of the day, take our walks at sunset (when, even so, the heat is so fierce it hurts, scorching and burning the skin of our faces and feet), moving as little as possible while outside the sun blasts down, vicious on the leaves of the maple and sycamore in the backyard. Big Dog lies collapsed in the hallway, the coolest part of the house. Spike hide under the white chair, growling when I try to force him to go outside: not that I blame him.

I want fall.



*though, a bright point, the kid did find a brilliant book at the library this morning: It Was A Dark and Stormy Night, by Allen and Janet Ahlberg. It's so good we've read it outloud to one another three times now, and it is far from a short book. The kid's favorite part is the Thingy in the moat; my favorite is the socialist uprising among the brigands.