2. Stardust turns out to be practically perfect hot weather reading. 'Practically' because there are the usual Gaiman rough edges that are rough. Genre-breakers, which would be OK except I like my genres as they are, thanks.
3. Not as many cherries as last year, thank god, but now what there is are ripe and falling. Also the plums. Ohh the plums. *Next* year, or maybe this year in the fall, a bunch of those branches are going.
4. Last night was lukewarm- neither hot nor cold- so that the air from the window fan didn't chill my poor poor shoulders and toes etc as it usually does, just moved the neutral air around. So for a change I slept without a t-shirt, under a terrycloth sheet as in the 90s: which was a tangible body-memory reminder of what the 90s was like. Always wondered how I'd managed that bit.
5. Workman unaccountably failed to show up to cover my bannister rail. Called and left message; he hasn't called back. Maybe he's dead?