
Or it could be the moon.
This is what the eastern sky looked like around 7:30 last night.
“No more monsoons! The end is nigh! Prepare ye for mostly sunny and warmish!”
Which it was. Eighties as I pedaled off nine-ish this morning, and it only got hotter.
Later in the afternoon Herself popped round to the Dark Tower for a window chat with her mom, but couldn’t stick it out more than a few minutes.
Don’t expect her to have a window chat of any duration with Louie Gohmert, though. Not even if the dumb sonofabitch wears a diving helmet and a diaper over his Bug-hole.

I think the pink and purple hues are more impressive than Cthulhu’s eye!
I asked him (Her? It?) to show a bit of tentacle, but no dice. We had to settle for The Colour Out of Space.
Took a short to stop store trip today, about 2 pm. The outside temperature reading on my dash Read 117 degrees. It is accurate.
Yow. Your driver isn’t named Charon, by any chance?
The last several mornings it was 86d at 6:15 and 90 by before 7am.
I think it was a tad below 90 today here in the Democratic People’s Republic of Fanta Se. Just got off a short ride and a happy ride. Bought two new pairs of cycling shorts and they fit way better than my old ones. As a cyclist, when your ass is happy, you are happy.
Don’t forget the chamois cream. Of course, if you’re cycling around where Charley hangs his hat, your drawers might start bubbling like chips in a deep fat fryer.
An Edsel. Amazing. Someone up in Bombtown had one and every year decorated it as Santa’s Sled.
A high of 15 Commie Celsius, ( that’s 59 of your ‘Merican Fahrenheits), down here. I even had to haul out a flannel shirt.
Good on ya Hurben. Just reading that made me cooler.
Ah, Jaysis, I bet that put paid to the auld sandal tan.
I think we might have Baldwin’s book somewhere, if anyone needs to read it.