As I write this at 2 pm on Monday, it's 106 in the shade on my patio and 114 at Joyce's house. I hope this is summer's last hurrah as far as heat goes.
I swear, I will not buy any more stuff until Chrismas! I've just had a need to spoil myself and my dogs, but too much online shopping equals too many cardboard boxes that you then need to dispose of. I'm driving away from the dump's recycle place in the photo, which I took the other day.
I'm wearing a mask because of the smoke.
This is our road, Joyce's and mine.
Today, the smoke is better and my mind is on my relatives in New Orleans, Errol's aunt and uncle, now both close to 90 years old. The uncle is suffering with Parkinson's. As hurricane Ida approached, I'm sure they evacuated to their daughter's house in Houston, but still, at their age. But good they have a place to go.
I'm supposed to take care of some business relating to my trust today. I need to call a woman in Bakersfield to find out if she will be the backup trustee for my living trust. The trustee is onboard, but a backup is also needed.
I will do it tomorrow, Tuesday. Even when I'm inside the house with the portable a/c unit blasting cool air, the heat still seems to affect me. Lazy typing for my blog seems to be all I can manage today.
The other day, sitting in my bed, I had quite the scare: Something was moving under my bed. Something pretty big. Then this head popped out:
Usually, my dogs have just put their heads underneath the bed to escape the heat. I guess Faith figured a whole-body experience would be more beneficial.
