Gross.
I have air conditioning in my Rustbucket of Doom. Yep. I turn it up on high and roll up the windows (well, all except the passenger side one, it doesn't do mucha anything). Steaming hot air pours out of the vents and my skin feels like it might blister. I usually can only keep the air on for a red light, or a city block--aw hell who'm I kidding? I count to ten as fast as I can then shut the damned thing off! But after sitting through that, the ninety degree, damp saturated air is a breath of fresh air.
In other news, I have picked up some extra work transcribing, and so its killing me to sit here in type when I'm not "on the clock" per se. Thus, I am working on photo blogging. Here is my week, in a nutshell:
Burning Magnesium makes for an oh-so-bright yard (I still crack up when I see all the empty chairs--they were only just recently vacated when this shot was taken, on account of the big-assed bright fahr).
Then there were a few decent storms, during which I stood guard on my front porch to make sure that if a funnel cloud forms over the top of my house, I would be the *first* to know about it (note: I have irrational fears of funnel clouds forming directly over my house) On a more practical note, I have larger, insurance related fears about people parking in the grass.
To give you some perspective-the dog weighs 95 lbs and stands about 2 1/2-3 ft off the ground (he won't stand up for me to measure him right now. It's late, I guess).
And of course, Wondercat helps to investigate, too.
Enough of that.
I tried giving teaching piano lessons.
Unfortunately, this is my most interested client, my namesake:
I took her home.
I've got her name narrowed down to one of the two:
"We are Not Keeping this Kitten"
or
"But YOU got a Motorcycle."
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