Slugfest

Just the moment before, I had noted how peacefully Celeste was sleeping, paws curled to her chest and what looked to be a little smile on her face.  Evidently her little brother, Ralph, also saw her, and he couldn't stand it.  He pounced on her and gave her what-for.  The thing is, Celeste can give as good as she gets and the slugfest was on, ending with Celeste chasing Ralph down the hall and back again.  These mock battles happen almost daily, always instigated by Ralph.  They never hurt each other, not even pulling a fluff of fur.  Michael is so used to them now that he doesn't even raise his head.

Temps in the high 90s make a slug of me, draining what little ambition I might have (not that there's much there in the first place).  The ceiling fan just moves the hot air around, not providing much relief.  I am grateful that it is a dry heat with no humidity, there is that.  My refuge is sleep, and I sleep off and on all day.  Not much gets accomplished in summer, for sure.

Regardless, I've got to at least swish the dust rag around today.  Arden will be here this afternoon, and I got a message that Deb and Craig are coming up tomorrow.  I'd say they are gluttons for punishment were it not that temps in the valley have been well over 100 this week.  Nineties will seem like a cool-down for them.  I'm also getting a haircut tomorrow.  I called Candy in desperation last week when I was ready to take the dog clippers and shave my sweat-soaked head.  No sleeping today, but I can't promise I'll move faster than a slug.