My dear friend Kay (R.I.P.) use to say “It’s not the heat, it’s the whining.” Let me whine a bit about the weather.
One of the Titans has uprooted my fair state and dropped into a super-sized Finnish sauna. Literally, my breath was taken away when I left work just now and stepped outside. It is hard to breathe. It’s 92 degrees, 70 degree dewpoint, 98 degrees heat index. Yuck, whine, whine.
We turned on the a/c for the first time yesterday, and was happy to find it still works.
Tonight we celebrate John’s birthday. His wish was to go to Big Bowl. I have to finish his cake (frosting) before I can go off to work for Metro.
Is it fair to leave squirrelly kids with your Spousal Unit on the SU’s birthday? I am really going to work and earn money, not sitting ina coffee house and schmoozing. I’m not the schmoozing type.
I think the ethics here are sketchy.
The cake is from scratch. It’s a recipe called Grandma’s Thunder Cake. It’s from a book Rachel and John read together a month ago. The kids and I call it Dada’s Thunder Fart Cake. I don’t know if that’s a by-product of the cake or not. It’s made with tomatoes, so anything is possible.
A happy hot 62nd Birthday to John.
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