Stinkin Hot

Hookay. Despite my kitchen thermometer telling me my house is 87 inside (feels even hotter, I think) I have managed to get a fair amount done today.

Kid to clay class, check. Make program, check. Locate harpsichord tuning hammer, antique-style, check. Find washers for hose hook-up to supply water to studio, check. Make beds for musicians, check. Check papers to see if ads appeared as planned, check. Call that guy who wants to record the last concert, check. Borrow a weed wacker to clean up the driveway for the concert, check. More to do, but for now we can only hunker down inside to escape the Vietnam-like heat outside.

I am at the local mall, making use of its free wifi, installed alongside the bouncy-bounce while Elihu romps with new friends and works up the kind of sweat we came here to avoid working up. Kids. I can pick out his laughter, and it makes me happy to hear. Often he feels himself a loner, and truly he is in many ways, so it’s a relief for my mother’s heart to know he’s playing with others for a change and having such a good time.

It’s worth all that sweat that’s now pouring down his red-cheeked face on this stinkin hot day.

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