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Fun in the summer includes a relaxed teaching schedule, relaxed living schedule, actually I guess I could have just said a relaxed schedule.

Housework is relaxed even more than usual since we are still five months away from the dreaded holiday season, and thank god for it. It must be said, though, that once past the Fourth of July, it starts counting down. But I'm in denial over that, so tra la la. and a bottle of rum. Or is that yo ho ho? You know, you just can't say ho any more without a nudge and a wink. I hate that.

In truth, it's been so long since I vacuumed I can't remember if the machine is broken. It might be. I had it out over the weekend and it sounded muted. It was running and yet not making the sound of running. Muted, you might say. Or mutated. My vacuum cleaner is a ho.

Summer trips are fun. The girlfriends are returning to the Cape this weekend to see another production at College Light Opera---Bye Bye Birdie. I'm expecting greatness. I'm also expecting to clothesline one or two of those high class babes in the audience if they think they are going to squelch me from laughing.

Sweating and perspiring and suffering from the heat are part of summer in New England. Also mosquitoes of keen focus and desire. Our mosquitoes are hungrier than yours, dear reader, and I regret saying it. They go to airline pilot school and can land on an aircraft carrier at night. My fleshy arms (and they are shown in stark relief in the above photo) are the runways of their dreams. The hottest nights of all I call Wet Washcloth nights, the ones where I keep such an item on my forehead or shoulder. Sometimes those nights turn into Sleep Downstairs on the Couch nights, but usually I break down and turn on my air conditioner. I don't like to run it because it is so noisy. I will be peacefully dreaming and BANG! THUMP! WHAT WAS THAT? I am certain that Freddy Kreuger has come in the kitchen door. Sometimes I think I can hear voices inside the air conditioner, although that may be a different issue.