Hotter than July, Busier than most Sundays:

[captainsblog]

This global warming hoax keeps getting more impressive all the time. It's back up to the steam of early this month, and a brief blast of rain early this morning did little to water anything but plenty to raise the humidity level from Soup to Hot Soup.  Earlier, Eleanor posted pictures of our front yard compared to that of the new kid across the street, and while we still have a little green out there (thanks, some, to regular watering of the gardens but also from the shade that they and the trees provide), there's little in the way of anything growing except some Queen Anne's lace.  I will need to get out and Henry-the-Eighth that shizzle in the early evening when it's perhaps a little more tolerable out there.

My day started, as it always does, feeding the animals.  Ebony's routine is to go out back before she eats; usually, she finishes her bidness out there just as I'm feeding the third or fourth mouth inside, so there's not much scratching or barking to contend with.  Today, though, I had to call her in, and she wouldn't come- instead sitting on the back lawn, halfway to the lot line, just contemplating something.

"Something" turned out to be a deer, grazing on the brown grass back there, not three feet away from her and on the same side of the fence. I ran for my phone, and Ebony came back in through the garage just as Mama was skedaddling over the fence. That dog has the quintessential soul of the protagonist of the Ferdinand the Bull book; she never picks a fight with anything, preferring to sit just quietly and smell the flowers. Deer pellets. Whatever.

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Later in the day, we (by which I mean "mostly Eleanor") finished installing the new door handle today. I spent all of 10 minutes out there, unscrewing the old strike plate from the door frame and then cleaning out the greasy grimy spider guts that had accumulated in there over 20 years. That alone was enough to turn me back into a sweaty mess; her hour-plus out in it, filing and drilling and finally assembling, was even worse for her. But it's done, gods bless, and that happy sound of the handle falling off will no longer strike the hour as we hang out in the living room.

I've also gotten my hair cut (much needed in this steam, as I was starting to resemble Tom Hulce as Mozart), done the Wegmans run, entered some back time, and have only a bank account to balance and a cat to shoo off my keyboard.  I have the third episode of The Newsroom to check out, the second having enamored me a lot less than the first and the New Yorker reviewer having promised me that #3 is the worst yet. I should probably also go over to my other blog and shovel dirt on the Mets after their hideous trip to Hotlanta, or check the latest Comicon doings. Anything not involving being out in that steam bath is fine with me right about now:P

Comments

[bill_sheehan.livejournal.com]

The bedroom at Chez La Maison Casa Manse is the only room with air conditioning. It also contains the best TV and a supply of NCIS Los Angeles (aka "Son of Gibbs") Season 2 DVDs.

Unfortunately, although I am a slug, there are things that need doing, like preparing meals. This task needs to be done in that room with all the bright sunny southern exposure, the kitchen.

Why did I get the idea of caramelizing half a dozen onions for later use? It takes a good thirty for forty-five minutes to caramelize onions!

For my sins, I'm also going to make a jambalaya...

[captainsblog.livejournal.com]

Well, I suppose if you're going to have to live in a Nawlins climate from now on, you may as well have the food that goes with it;)