Cooling our jets?

When I left for the gym this morning about 6:20, it was 56 degrees out (13.3 C) and drizzly. It is supposed to get all the way up to 69 (20.6 C) this afternoon. Not typical for August, I think, even in Wisconsin. Tom joked that he had to go to the railroad and shovel coal or snow, whichever.

We have had rain the last two nights, and that has helped ward off the drought that we were leaning into last week. Yesterday when we went for a walk, we ran into Jerry at his farm and had the rural conversation about how the beans needed the rain, how the cows appreciate the cooler weather because it keeps the bugs away and the conflicting advice one gets from the medicos about tick bites. I suppose this time next year we will have discovered the urban equivalent.

I got some writing done and am feeling somewhat relaxed. Only somewhat because yesterday afternoon while I was preparing my version of pastel azteca for dinner, Cassidy came limping into the kitchen. We have not been able to discover anything in her paws or any indication of broken bones, although she does express unhappiness when we press around on the pads of her feet. We will keep an eye on her and see if it fixes itself. Tom jabbed himself badly in the ribs when we were in Chicago, carrying a huge box with a model train set down the street to give to the Wollenbergs. That is still sore and he is projecting -- my word, not his -- his own aches onto Cassidy and assuring me that there is nothing serious.

Sundance, meanwhile, appears to have decided that it is up to her to pester us twice as much to make up for Cassidy's lying about doing nothing. Lovely!