It's hot; muggy and hot.
The nice thing about Santa Barbara is that there's only a couple of days a year when you need air conditioning and a couple of days a year when you need central heating. The unfortunate thing about Santa Barbara is that because of this, most houses have neither.
I feel molten. I am fantasizing about thunder and lightning, about the clean smell of rain, and the swishing of car tires on wet roads. Instead I'm surrounded by white heat, glare and stultifying air. I feel like I'm cooking from the inside.
At least our present house has a lovely cave-like living room, unlike our previous apartment which would get so hot that candles would melt. Unfortunately the computer is upstairs, so sorry, I was going to write a post about my upcoming 10th Wedding Anniversary *yikes*, but urgh, the heat.
It's like living in one of LK's tennis socks.
Instead I think I might just have a nice cold shower and go and stand in front of a fan, so in lieu of a proper post here's what happens if you give a 7-year-old felt tip pens and sweets.......(markers and candy for you Yankee Doodles).......
I think your buttyful too.