Heat.

Tucson is hot.  So hot.  I've been reading about Australia in Bill Bryson's Down Under and his pages are just packed with compliments to the Australians for thriving in such hot whether.  He makes them sound like saints for staying alive, and then he drops out some temperatures.  How's 115 degrees Fahrenheit?  Oh that's easy.  Tell me why doesn't Tucson get any credit?  There's a million people in this city, and I haven't run across any novels describing how incredible Tucsonans are for staying alive.

Maybe it's because we hide.

Yep, that must be it.  I don't get any credit for surviving, because I am currently hiding from the heat, paying someone to keep my 419 square foot apartment cold.  I could have used some serious kudos today, but you know what?  I'm happy right where I am.

Blog.

I feel like writing a blog today
even though I have nothing to say.
I could talk about fish, I could talk about whey,
besides, who reads this blog anyway?

Yesterday I got a new chair
It was out by the garbage, but looks rather fair
I always wanted one that was shaped like a square!
I hope my husband don't know I found it there.

Sunday I played with all the rats,
I fed them, and held them, and hit them with bats.
I didn't really, it just rhymes, fats,
slats, flats, mats, cats, acrobats.

This is the end of my useless blog
but it was fun, and I used my nog
I can't wait till it rains, so I can catch a frog
but for now I'll play with my dog.