Malseasoned

Another thing about warm weather this time of year is that the air is always very dry, blowing down from the high deserts. I wake feeling as though I'd eaten part of the Sahara. If I'm having dreams I don't remember them, but I'll bet they're weird.

The feral cats must be feeling the dryness, too, as I've had to fill their water bowl twice today. My preference is beer, of course. The cats might also prefer beer, as it's yeasty, but they aren't going to get the chance to try it. At least not from me. No, kitteh, that's my beer!

Listening to more wind. Desiccating.