... the handbasket.
Assuming I'm going to Hell in a handbasket, it appears the time is coming. I'm feeling fine, thanks for asking. I have often said that summers here in the desert are like "the Gates of Hell." 107º for a high today, 113º predicted on Father's Day. I think I need to get a heat shield, like what the Space Shuttle used to have for re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere...
It didn't get below 100º until after 8:00 this evening. I sometimes feel I'm acclimated to life in the desert... then Mother Nature slaps me beside the head. Murphy got to go outside early this morning, then didn't get outside until around 7:00 this evening. He is not used to that, but I hope he knows that we are looking out for him.
He could hear Joan on the other side of the wall...
She is giving the cacti out front a drink. They look like they are doing well. Not like I'm a cactus expert.
Murph got to spend time out in the courtyard, until twilight. I took this photo of the moon over South Mountain when we were ready to head in...
It was too dark to get another photo of the furry boy. So, that is our life for a while: get out early before the temperature hits triple digits; avoid going out in the afternoon (although we did have lunch at SmashBurger today); then, get out again after the sun sets and before it gets too dark. Life in the desert.
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