I don’t understand Papa sometimes. I’m not sure what part of that is the Alzheimer’s, and what part is him just being a quirky old man, but he does confound the imagination. Yesterday was another scorcher, and while I was trying to keep the addition cool and comfortable for him, he was doing everything possible to keep it hotter than Hades. I mean, I know sometimes he does stuff and doesn’t understand why he’s doing it, but after he unplugged his fan for the fourth time, I had to accept that there is a high possibility he actually likes the heat.

Hannah spent the night at a friend’s house and I helped her pack, which included putting together a bag of ‘safe foods’ for her to eat; she’s taken to calling herself Tiny Tim (though I much prefer Tiny Tina). Well, Tiny Tim was having a bad hair day and wouldn’t leave the house without giving it a thorough conditioning and layer of gel. Which meant that she wanted to ride to her friend’s house with the windows up. In a car with no AC. On a 90 degree day.

These people are crazy.

With Hannah gone, and Stephen in Vermont all week, we decided to take advantage of a kid-free house. Dad and I ran downtown for foodstuffs (with the windows DOWN, thankyouverymuch) and we made a truly gourmet feast of hotdogs and chips and onion dip. Because we’re cool like that. Meanwhile I’m cranking up the AC in a humid climate, eating dinner at 4 o’clock, and thinking – sign me up for Del Boca Vista. This is the life.