HOT, HOT, HOT in Postcards 4

I can’t believe it is August. In the 1950’s, July at Mrs. Duffy’s Ranch Camp for Girls was hot. In August it was unbearably hot. Here at the beach, it is just warm. My family are in the 80’s and 90’s. Bobbie, in the hills behind LA, is in the top 90’s. We are in the sixties at the moment, and still on hold.

CALLS: The bank calls every day wanting more information. Yesterday it wanted the papers that say the condo association does insure the outside of the building. The surgeon’s’ office called to apologize for saying that I drank 4 to 8 glasses of wine a day. That’s been removed from the report now. Something tells me that reports are automated.

I have been wondering if any of you read the links in other’s side columns. I do. You folks read some fascinating things. Invariably I end up watching a video on YouTube. Yesterday’s video takes a whole hour to get through. I found it fascinating, you might not. The QE2 was the last real ocean liner. Now she lies in the brutal heat of Dubai as a hotel.
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• Himself: Termite inspection day. Right now he is auditing.


• Myself: On hold, I’m doing better with everyday stuff. Strawberry Shortcake for dinner last night. Quesadillas for tonight’s meal. Laundry…that sort of focus.


• Photo: Mine on a January day of the OB Pier.


• Reading: E. Moon second to the last of the Vatta saga.


• Gratitude’s: Endless. I sat for a while enjoying the green leaves outside the bedroom window.

Last updated August 15, 2019