Heated

It's back to running the air conditioner. When I turn it off and open the windows I can hear the cicadas. I'm sort of enjoying the buzzing of the cicadas so far, because they aren't very close to my house yet. From a distance they make a nice background sound for the crickets. Later in the month they'll be screeching nearby and driving me crazy.

Portia has taken to staying away until very late. Last night she turned up about midnight. It's probably just as well for her that she's staying away until late, as the feral kittens decided to venture into the front yard tonight. It's the first time I've seen them there. Their mom was with them, of course, and if another cat had turned up there would have been trouble. But now I have to put off my shower until Portia shows up, as I want to let her into the house as soon as possible. If I'm not available and she runs into a feral cat she'll get beaten up again.

I sometime wish Portia could be as tough as Sunni was. She used to run off stray cats without hesitation, and even went after dogs now and then— though she was more apt to play games with friendly dogs than give them a bad time. She would seldom tolerate other cats, though.

Resigned to another week of high temperatures, but I don't have to like them.