It's not all that bad here (I work in OK.) Yeah, it's a little over 100 many days, but there hasn't been much rain, so no horrific humidity.
It's been pouring buckets of rain up here in the Sandhills of Nebraska, about two out of every three days.....since last March. There's more water than air, in the air here.
I wonder if Mrs. Alfred Packer is smart enough to do her baking late at night, or before sunrise?
This reminds me.
I'm still stuck--writer's block--on how Mrs. Alfred Packer manages to pay the pig-tailed bent-back slipper-wearing Celestial for the stainless steel pots and pans (remember, Mrs. Alfred Packer is a notorious racist, a sinophobe), and so I decided to skip working on that part of the
War and Peace-length sex novel about Mrs. Alfred Packer, and go a little ahead of the story.
So I get to the part where Mrs. Alfred Packer is delivered of two twin infants, boys.
Wild Bill Jr. is a spitting image of his old man.
But the other twin, Hop Sing, has nothing of hippyhubby Wild Bill.
And now I'm at a second
impasse; Wild Bill's reaction to the infant Hop Sing.