...not a damn thing.
It's 85 here, the air is absolutely still, and with that big puddle only a few hundred feet away, it's not exactly dry. I have fans running, but this place is still a sweatbox.
Not as sweaty as my walk this morning. I was planning to extend past the normal four miles, but wimped out.
For a variety of reasons I will censor even before making any attempt to explain, I am in a foul mood. Wish something would come along to alleviate some of the aggravation, which bikers on their unmuffled Harleys, helicopters and noisy neighbors are not helping.
Off to the market, in an air-conditioned car.
Whoo-freekin'-pee.
6 hours ago
2 comments:
You've hit on the reason I love the mountains so much...they're usually a long way from a major body of water, which means it's DRY there. Hope you enjoy that air conditioned car, and the rest of your evening, too. :)
MrScribbler - ummmm...85 sounds delicious.
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