In other news, it's real hot.

Tonight, while taking Bruiser for a walk. Which he was pleased to take:

Bruiser: (lagging. Perhaps: lollygagging. Or so it appears.)

Me: (gentle tug on the leash) C'mon Bruiser! Come on!

Bruiser: (reluctant trot, followed by immediate and deep interest in a shrubbery)

Me: Oh, COME on, Bruiser. (doubling back, my strategy to countermand my occasionally deep impulse to yank.)

Bruiser: (lifts his head. Pants.)

The historian: I know, big guy. I know.

Me: It's just going to be hot like this for awhile longer, Bruiser. And then it will gradually get better.

Bruiser: (the hell you say.)

Hot dog, taking simultaneous advantage of the tile floor and the swamp cooler downdraft.

Nothing on.

Currently, I'm watching Mean Girls. Actually, I'm in the other room, so technically I'm not "watching" it. I'm blogging. Also, I have put away some clothes and started a novel and taken a little nap with Bruiser. And had a cup of hot chocolate. With marshmallows. Now I feel a little sick and possibly a bit overheated.

College daughter watched Extreme Home Makeover and cried her eyes out, and now she's recounting the whole sad, horrible story. What the hell.