Are Seattle’s gorgeously temperate summers at an end? It’s been between ten and twenty degrees hotter. I can’t count the number of times we’ve been in the nineties. I’m miserable. Why am I here in Seattle? Because I can’t take the heat. Especially this muggy heat that triggers claustrophobic feelings.
My Marie Kondo tidying project? Forget it! Wake me up in September.
My garden’s straggling along. Peas and strawberries are tasty but go out of town for a couple days and they all dry out. Plum tree’s infested by aphids. I’m covered in mosquito bites from a camping trip. Miserable, in short.
Work’s piling up. I can’t bear to look at my papers. Email inbox? Folks, if you sent me something, or want me to do something, it got buried. Remind me.
I am keeping up with my Clarion writeathon goals. However, the characters sort of limp along and mope. They’re a little like my pea plants.
More than miserable, I’m concerned. This is climate change. What’s next for us?