CA is back teaching math to high schoolers for an indefinite period of time. The lovely woman who replaced him in 2006 when he retired has sadly had a health set-back, so he's happily launching the school year for her until her health stabilizes. I say "happily" because he's happy to be helping out, but hadn't planned on full-time subbing during soccer season. That's a very long day to be on his skinny, little feet-- more than 12 hours lots of days. When I say "skinny and "little" I mean both. He has smallish feet for his 6'3" frame, and as we age the fat pads on our feet bottoms thin out-- think it has something to do with more fat "required" on tummies and thighs (?).
Anyway, I tackle cleaning the outsides of the windows and screens while RvH washes the inside panes. We do our "Martha" with white vinegar and warm water. It's the best! And, save the planet--old white toweling is superb for both washing and drying. The windows shine--all 9 of them, plus the French doors and front door side lites.
Unfortunately I neglect to notice the heat. Well, I notice it--I'm sweated through my shirt and denim capris, and I don't usually sweat. My capris look suspiciously like PJ's birthday card intimated... What finally draws my attention is the whoozy, heat stroke feeling during the last couple of minutes of the project. I need water and cool--immediately. Inside the a/c is reviving, and I strip off my soaked shirt. Nice look for a 62 year-old almost Albino! Good thing I brought along another shirt.
A dry shirt feels good, but I 'm stuck with soggy britches. Funny how quickly they dry in the heat during our quick trip to Panera to share a tuna sandwich and bag of chips. The cashier feels bad seeing our heat-stroked faces and treats us to free iced teas. A lovely random act of kindness.
I'm soon on the road to Caputo's to gather the supplies for Saturday's entertaining, and then straight home to rest and recover. I love being at home-- a/c, a great mattress, and some junk tabloids (is that redundant?) compliments of RvH.