A friend who formerly lived here referred to Sacramento as "the hinges of hell." I think that was pretty accurate. It was still 105 degrees at 7:00 p.m this evening. It was 88 degress at 9:00. The sparrow hawks that are nesting in the tree next door (I mistakenly called them goshawks before I correctly identified them in a bird book) have been cooling themselves off in our pool. They sit in the spa spillway and do a funny little spa dance, bumping their fannies up and down, fanning their wings, and taking a sip of water now and then. The much bigger female, which is brown in color, really keeps the smaller, darker male in line. She pecked at him when he crowded her while drinking. I guess the heat is making the birds cranky, too. I see them swooping back and forth all day long from the back window. They put on quite a show for us, which we've been enjoying through the Leica birdwatching binoculars Keith found at the flea market last weekend. They are about $1,000 pair for which he paid only $40. A real find!

I look forward to escaping to Lake Tahoe for a few days. Even though it's in the 80s up there, which is unusually warm for Tahoe (no A/C at the cabin), it's still better than being here in this inferno. It's supposed to hit 107 tomorrow. Real dog days. Bubba and I will go to our old Tahoe haunts we used to go to when he and Daisy were young and full of life. There'll be some Daisy ghosts to haunt me there, too, but I can't wait to see the beautiful lake again and get some renewed inspiration for my mysteries. Speaking of mysteries, Mickey Spillane died today at age 88.