We don't have dog days hereabouts

We have cat days. I do not use the cat-length thermometer, since its results are compromised by the existence of a couple of window air conditioners. There is a cat-position thermometer, though. Also a cat-flatness thermometer. The most interesting is the position one, which infallibly demonstrates where cool air is flowing on the floor, and never mind those pesky people who think it's more important that they get to use a particular hallway or staircase.

I am glad this awful weather has been so long delayed, but it's going to make packing Eric's stuff rather more difficult than it need be. The long-range forecast, for the last few days and the cleaning, looks more civilized, but I haven't got a lot of faith in long-range forecasts.

I wrote another 450 words on the Whim/Hills sequel. I had to name the directory something, so I called it "north." We'll see.

Am starting to have structural thoughts about the Liavek novel and wondering if certain characters should be introduced earlier.

Outside everything is dry and crunchy. Oh dear, I had better go out right now and turn off the trickle of water I turned on last night for the huge mock-orange. The water bill can only take so much.