Two of the cats (Ralph and Michu) keep cool on top of the doghouse, beneath the lilacs.
From moist heat to grey wind, here in Saskatchewan we are experiencing our usual unpredictable weather.
I went to bed, thrilled that as I lay there I could see the stars through my window. At about 3 a.m. the wind started blowing and tore a chunk of tarpaper loose from the wall outside the bedroom. That frigging thing pounded on the wall all night, as if a man with two hammers was standing out there trying to make my life miserable. I, always lazy, tried to sleep through the noise. Instead I was awake half the night, until about 6 a.m. when I finally found the gumption to get dressed, search for the staple gun, go outside and climb a ladder. It took all of two minutes before I was able to return indoors, chuck off my clothing, crawl under the covers again and sleep till about 8:30, when real men with hammers started beating on the other side of the house.
I'm told they got the porch reshingled this morning. I came over here at 9 a.m. to do last night's kitchen cleanup (it was too hot and muggy after supper), drive to town for a couple cheap toasters and a few more groceries to make lunch with, and to work. And now, I must wash the dishes after the noon meal, and then go over there and see how the hollyhocks are standing up to this wind. I got some of them staked up last night, so can rest easier.
See? The bad hair, the yapping ... I am a lousy photo subject. Shelly was thirsty and waiting for rain.