Ah yes, nothing screams “party pad” than a broken oven door that someone sat on, a wad of painted over gum, and half of a tooth left behind. If I ever wondered why all the neighbors talked about the good times they had over here, I don’t have to wonder anymore.
And, if that weren’t enough, it seems that Millie is having hot flashes in her old age. It is already 82 degrees and climbing in here, and I am sweating in places I didn’t know I had. I’m clinging to the memory of the blissfully cool day we had on Saturday as I contemplate yet another cold shower.
I don’t do well with heat. I still can’t believe that as a child I survived staying at Aunt Mildred’s house in Cleburne, TX, in AUGUST with no a/c. I think those visits must have permanently damaged my ability to regulate not only my body temperature but my attitude.
In other news, Millie is shaping up. Almost everything is unpacked and ready for organization. As soon as a cool breeze rolls through, I’m going to tackle that. Until then, I’m going to be cranky as I sit under a window fan that is blowing in more hot air. Good times.