We’ve gone from having the heat on to having the A/C on in the space of a week. I love Summer, I love the heat, I don’t mind humidity, I could cheerfully live in 80 degree weather year round and you’ll never hear me complain it’s too hot. (I may be preparing for my future life, who knows? But in my view, Heaven is hot and Hell is cold, so there’s that)
Maverick, on the other hand, does not understand that he doesn’t get to shed layers of fur like Mommah sheds layers of clothes and he really should not be outside for long periods of time when it’s 80some degrees out there and he can’t stop moving long enough to even get a drink.
We’ve taken to walking at the small park – a half mile – with him, because he’s just too hot. I take him home, then go to the big park and do my miles. I like to eat and that means I need to walk at least three miles a day or I turn into a balloon. I don’t like myself when I’m fat. I also like ice cream so I do what I have to do to have both – me sorta not fat but able to eat a fudgesicle when the mood strikes.
(It strikes almost every day)
I’m heading to NY again in a couple of weeks. I’m kinda dreading this trip – because I’m not getting this experimental vaccination and most of my relatives are convinced I’m an idiot. I’m also sort of an anti-masker, and when I mentioned to my sister that I rarely wear one, her reaction was “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?” Ummm, I’m thinking, that’s what I’m doing. I will bend enough to wear a face diaper when required while there, but I will not be pressured into a vaccine. I’m afraid it’s going to lead to arguments. Le Sigh.
I’m teaching two nights a week. And I signed up for a computer science course, so I have homework of my own – I finished the first chapter today (yes, I know it’s only Monday and the class opened at midnight last night, I’m a nerd, k?) but I’m stressing about the quiz on this chapter because it’s an adult student thing – (and I’m a nerd) – that I have to get an A. (But it is fun to be a student again. ) I’m going to be busy with that, and it may just be my excuse should the family pressure become unbearable.
Today I decided to make molasses cookies. My dear departed friend Cindy would say, “Mole Asses?” She was a character and is much missed but that’s another story for another day. I’m using my mom’s recipe. She didn’t write down directions, only ingredients. This is interesting. They smell good, they look funny, Bear will eat them and all is good