![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Reset Forty-Nine, Day Forty-Nine
Jul. 12th, 2023 10:27 amSomehow a late evening nap Tuesday turned into an actual night of mostly sleep. I expected to be up at three o'clock in the morning, but when I opened my eyes to light leaking in around the blinds I knew I'd overshot. It turned out to be after seven o'clock in the morning. Since then I've been trying to adjust to being awake in the Blazing Light, and trembling over the horror of the Approaching Heat. It's going to be 97! More horrifying still, Sunday is predicted to reach 111! That's right. Eleventy-one degrees! Farhenhate!
Good news is that I managed to get my laundry done Tuesday, so I won't have to enter that horribly hot little room again soon. It actually wasn't too bad Tuesday, as I don't think we even hit 90. Ah, but those days are gone, alas. The forecast says there's no high below 98 in the next two weeks.
More bad news this morning is that Anchor Brewing Company of San Francisco is shutting down. One of the bright spots of the last few months for me has been that the local markets have begun carrying Anchor Steam Beer, and have been selling it fairly cheaply. For a long time it was hard to find, and expensive, so I was delighted to find it suddenly appearing and selling for less than ten bucks for a six pack. This came close to compensating for Sierra Nevada's decision to stop bottling porter a couple of years ago. But it now appears that this push was part of a last-ditch attempt by Anchor to reverse their decline in sales, and it has failed, and the brewery has shut down after 126 years (I don't know w hat they made during prohibition, but it might have been near-beer.) I hope I'll have time to stock up before it vanishes from the stores forever, but I probably won't. Fans have probably already stripped the stores bare.
But oh the day wears on. There are things I ought to do I probably won't. At the very least I have to deal with the plants in the back yard. There is pokeweed that needs cutting back before it completely takes over and makes the grapes inaccessible, and the grapes themselves need watering ahead of the heat wave. Doing that might actually wear me out to the point that I need a nap before noon. I wouldn't be surprised.
But I regret the night I missed by sleeping through it. There's a heartbreak beat playing all night long down on my street, according to the Psychedelic Furs, one of the best eighties new wave English synth pop bands. I agree.
Good news is that I managed to get my laundry done Tuesday, so I won't have to enter that horribly hot little room again soon. It actually wasn't too bad Tuesday, as I don't think we even hit 90. Ah, but those days are gone, alas. The forecast says there's no high below 98 in the next two weeks.
More bad news this morning is that Anchor Brewing Company of San Francisco is shutting down. One of the bright spots of the last few months for me has been that the local markets have begun carrying Anchor Steam Beer, and have been selling it fairly cheaply. For a long time it was hard to find, and expensive, so I was delighted to find it suddenly appearing and selling for less than ten bucks for a six pack. This came close to compensating for Sierra Nevada's decision to stop bottling porter a couple of years ago. But it now appears that this push was part of a last-ditch attempt by Anchor to reverse their decline in sales, and it has failed, and the brewery has shut down after 126 years (I don't know w hat they made during prohibition, but it might have been near-beer.) I hope I'll have time to stock up before it vanishes from the stores forever, but I probably won't. Fans have probably already stripped the stores bare.
But oh the day wears on. There are things I ought to do I probably won't. At the very least I have to deal with the plants in the back yard. There is pokeweed that needs cutting back before it completely takes over and makes the grapes inaccessible, and the grapes themselves need watering ahead of the heat wave. Doing that might actually wear me out to the point that I need a nap before noon. I wouldn't be surprised.
But I regret the night I missed by sleeping through it. There's a heartbreak beat playing all night long down on my street, according to the Psychedelic Furs, one of the best eighties new wave English synth pop bands. I agree.
