Today was a head-yanking day. That made two in July. It's kind of like a blue moon, only it's an appointment with a chiropractor and nobody will write a song about it. Well, maybe Weird Al would write a song about it, but probably nobody else— not even me, even though it appears to have rid me of the crick I've had in my neck for the last week. That could be something to sing about, but not something to compose about. If I got rid of the neck problems for good, well, then I'd be happy to write a song for whatever brought it about.
It got cool enough early this morning that I was able to bake a batch of brownies without fear of overheating the house. Now it's time for midsummer brownies and icy chocolate milk with a scoop of vanilla ice cream in it. That's compensation for having endured another day of temperatures in the 90s. Portia will get her milk without chocolate, but she'll be happy enough. So will I.