Semi-Tropical.

We're gray again, the back side of some morning fog, itself on the back side of overnight thunderstorms that were more near us than on us, but we picked up nearly a half-inch of rain here at 1303 and so I'd have to say that on balance I could not complain. It's summer, full summer, and the bathroom reno is for all intents and purposes (save for a wee sticky note affixed to the hall wall with those remaining tasks to be performed listed thereunto) finished, and I've been for a week fully back down and into the novel, long, long days of revision leaving me weird but happy, and during those days there has been a juvenile gray catbird stopping by the fence outside my studio window at about eleven each morning, give or take, singing for tenish minutes, then flying away. It's been a perfectly approximate version of a better kind of clock. The thing about full summer is that a Sunday is the same as a Thursday. I know I'm doing well when I'm not sure what day of the week it is, not sure I even care.

If the sun should break through today, I'd say we'd get more than enough heating for some good-sized storms. Screen-porch storms. Today is not the day to attempt one of the items on that wee list, which is to cut a hole in the roof for the vent for the new bathroom fan. Save that for a surer forecast, or a drier one. Today is a day to have another cup of coffee, find a pair of shoes, amble outside for an hour or three to work that shifty section where she turns back up at the door again, a little angrier now than she had been before. Ignore damn near all else besides that and the bird. Aim towards a late, quiet dinner with AMR. I really do like a lot of the aspects of my job out there in 27244— at least those that tend to take place within the walls of the classroom. That said, though, friends and fans of afternoon convection and high humidity, let July and August drag out as long as they possibly, possibly can. Let every week for the next two months have eight days, please, instead of the usual seven. Let it be Wednesday without my ever knowing it was.