The terrible heat is still with us. Currently, it's 97F, but feels like 106. I hide in shadows, in my dust and books, typewriters and bones. I hardly slept last night. I was awake at 2:20 a.m., but at 3:30. I started a story, which I am tentatively calling "Black Water." And then I worked on that taxonomy problem for Mike P., and I made some headway. Then, sometime after 6 a.m., I laid back down and dozed maybe half an hour more. I got up and read more Bradbury: * "Uncle Einar" * "The Time Machine" * "The Sound of Summer Running" I worked on my pterosaur paper. I did some housework. I cut my fingernails. “Stuff your eyes with wonder," he said, "live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that," he said, "shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.” ~ Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 You know. The link . Later All You Zombies, Aunt Beast 6:06 a.m.