Down the street some guy parked a big truck in the back of which is something covered with a tarp. I suspect it is the backhoe coming to dig a hole in which a new gas line will be laid to serve the house next door. That means mechanical digging within feet of my window early tomorrow morning. I will have too little sleep and will ache from breathing pine spooge. I don't expect to get much done for the next couple of days.
A vacation at the beach would be nice about now, but impossible.
Ah, well. At least Sierra Nevada Summerfest has hit the shelves. I will drink myself into a stupor and not care that I am tired and sneezing. Well, not care as much, anyway.