There was a black squirrel doing a Salvador Dali/Wicked Witch of the West performance piece; I’m melting. Melting!
I refilled the water out there and went back to knitting up very warm fibers, grateful for air conditioning.
Ninety-nine degrees at 6:00 and sitting in the car waiting for Michelle’s commuter train to pull in, I wondered: who opened the door and let all the northern California out?