I’m sequestered in the air conditioned upstairs bedroom with the dogs, a little before noon, although the hour feels later. The dogs are crashed, and I’d like them to rest a little longer in the cool room, so I’ll stay here and catch up on my journal. If I leave my desk they’ll follow me downstairs. Oh, I’m sur ethey’re fine. But they’re fun to watch sleep.

And how are you? The house is empty of other humans. M and the boys are out west. Their leaving is always very, very difficult. Both T and S cried at the airport Saturday. I considered driving out to see them, since the cross-the-street neighbors agreed to watch the dogs (although I still don’t understand why the dogs can’t visit as well), but 1) the temps are way high and I don’t want to leave the dogs alone too long, even with dogsitters), 2) the ride west through 90 degree heat would be a bitch, and 3) M’s mom did not sound interested in adding me to the mix. Great. Oh well. Instead I’m painting the upstairs bathroom green. I can paint rooms ok but this is a bathroom, with little corners and crevices and fucked up drywall. I’ll do the best I can. Seriously, this may need three coats. I’ll do two and let the space sit for a couple days and take another look. Oh, I have to sand, too, where the drywall has flaked. Joy.

So what else is up? Nothing, really. I’ll try to write more now the house is open and the time available. More later.