Looking at my little month-at-a-time desk calendar, I see that I have absolutely nothing planned for the week ahead, except for the Farm Fresh to You delivery, which happens on Wednesday. Fresh organic fruits and veggies--for me, it's important that some foods eaten whole be pesticide free.

How did it happen that I have a week without commitments? Usually when I check the calendar, it will say something like pay bills, dentist appointment, doctor appointment, return books to library, or visit N at the VA. Often all of them in the same week.

The openness of the calendar is at least partially due to the fact that it's so hot. It was 101 yesterday at its worst and right now the humidity is higher than the temperature, which should tell you something about the misery factor.

My desk has a map of Los Angeles and surrounding communities on it (are there really any cities outside of L.A.?), you know, the kind of map you get from the Auto Club showing places to go, things to see.

I've circled quite a few of them and looked up the opening and closing times, directions to get there, parking--but not until the weather improves. So there the map sits, loved but unwanted until later in the year.

And I am pretty much hunkered down in my house, as Sue says doing this and that, until autumn arrives, leaving the premises only when I must.

Indian summer, be gone!

[Jim is right about Indian Summer (see comments); not a snowball's chance that there will be a freeze hereabouts followed by warmer than normal weather, which is the definition. What I meant is that time we here in southern California dread--late August through September--when the triple digit weather makes us miserable.]

Wine Harvest Summer is too benign a term for these few weeks. How about Whine Harvest?