Qualifies as a brutal day
The music never ends, but some of the players have to bow out. Saddened to learn that Judith Durham, of the Seekers has passed away. I am not Australian, but listening to her, I could pretend. A little. Her recordings will still be there, and some of those early video clips. Not quite enough.
Outside, this is a brutally hot day. Even my coffee seemed like a soothing beverage. The dog has it figured out; hang close to his water bowl, and ring the bell if the level drops too far.
It’s a quieter house. Most of the summer visitors are back home, where they will wait impatintly for the earth to do another lap around the sun. And as winter comes and goes, we’ll already be metally preparing for ’23.
We contemplated, ever so briefly, going into the city, but I can’t imagine a life in a concrete desert, without readly access to cold water. I’ll wait for others to tell me about what I missed, and I will nod. Politely. Some days, the countryside wins.
We’ve discovered that I’m bot eating the various pieces of fresh fruit, fast enough. Fruit flys. Don’t they have better places to hang out? And what do they actually eat. Another of life’s mysteries. At least they’re small ebough that you don’t have to chew any that act intrusively.
We had a call, wondering if we had ay mouse traps around the place. Nope. Never had a need. I guess that cottages have different proplems, No cats, either. Is that a thing, or just something from children’t literature?
