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Marilee J. Layman

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12:08 am: Heat Index 113F

I was wondering why the TV weather guy kept saying Manassas with the random places and then I remembered that we're going to have thousands of people here for the sesquicentennial starting tomorrow through Monday. He expects us to be hotter tomorrow through Monday and then maybe Tuesday will be in the high 80's. Weather.com and WashPost both expect all 90s or 100s (plus the heat indexes) will be like that until Tuesday, and then it's just 90s. We have excessive heat warnings through Saturday night as well as Code Red for both days, primarily ozone. The UV is dangerously high for the next two days. And we've got thousands of people in town. I hear the city has already asked for rescue squads and fire engines from local areas since we will almost certainly need more than we have.



When I finished online last night, I was so tired that I didn't do anything else, I read the first half of Saturday's paper (and finished the rest today). I looked for sparkle balls under the chest of drawers (three) and the secretary (one + big ball). I couldn't believe the arch was really high enough for the big ball to go through, so I threw it from across the room and it bounced back almost to me. I rolled it and it just hit the arch and wobbled a bit. Then Junie jumped down on it and pushed it under the arch. She looked at me as if it was my fault, stuck her paw in for a while, and when I gave her a little ball, she wasn't thrilled. I found her ball in the workroom a while ago and I'll have to put it in the box. I may get the new big balls before I feel like moving the furniture.

I went to bed to read and got 2 pages, over and over, in about 45 minutes. I just put the book away and went to sleep at 7am. I had the alarm set for 3pm and got up then. I had a very odd dream. A friend of mine and I did a lot of little scientific experiments because our big multi-family island in the middle of the lake no longer had people who could keep things working. We did as much of that as we could. We saw some odd things in the tunnel that brought the lake water in to fix and then the water went to individual homes. We went looking for it, following the trail until we saw a flaming line on the water. We carefully went around and saw that a vast amount of the stuff coming in was blowing up the water. We hurried back to our island and told everybody. Nobody believed us. My father wouldn't let me eat because he thought I lied. In the end, we went to our hidden canoe, packed with everything we needed, and started in the opposite direction from the trail of chemicals. A couple days later, we stopped and looked back at the burning island, and then went on.

I noticed that Spirit's bed had vomit on the edge and on the end table. As I got towels to clean the table and put the bed cover in the washer, I saw there was also some behind the recliner. I cleaned that up, too, and sat down, but the next time I reached for the juice, I knocked it over. Fortunately, it was the tupperware tumbler, but there was a lot of juice to clean up. When I came back, I noticed that I'd knocked Spirit's water over and I wanted to dry there and make her custard cup clean and wet on the inside. When I went to the side near the recliner, my left foot skidded to the left, and fortunately, I was already planning and in the right angle to grab the end table. Then I sat down for a while and used handkerchiefs, which are on the end table, and cleaned her water in the kitchen. I got that fixed and brought a towel back to put under my feet when I stood up. It was a bit damp, so that was just as well. The hamper now has lots of towels.

I started Sunday's paper and hope to at least get a third through tonight. Otherwise, I've been online. In Friday's paper, there's always a section before the editorials called Free For All. They take good letters to the editor and put them there. One from Friday was about Marcus and Michele Bachmann -- how a subhead on a recent article about them said they "were steeped in God and country." [At this point, I started laughing.] The writer goes on to say that when the Bachmanns are labeled like this, it's indicated that the liberals aren't like that. [I was still laughing.]

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