OK, so Kevin sent email yesterday telling me that I was supposed to have painted the trim FIRST. Oh, well . . . too late now, I'm afraid. I'm hopeful that the walls will still look good, and that maybe there are Two Schools of Thought about this trim vs. wall issue. (However, I note that my father, an excellent painter, for whom my respect grows by leaps and bounds - there really wasn't a home improvement the man couldn't do - always fell into the Trim First camp himself . . . sigh.)

At any rate, today I have totally Lost My Pep. I did a bit of trim in the living room, and later this evening will move the bookcase and entertainment center back into place, but that's really been the extent of it. I'm putting this lackluster performance down to a combination of heat and fatigue: I got an absolutely terrible night's sleep last night because the paint fumes were bothering Emil, who wanted to sleep with the windows open and fans going. It was way too hot for me. I couldn't take refuge in the basement, either, because Rob spent the night.

It was really nice to see Rob! This was the last time for a long time; he's leaving for Guam on August 2nd. He's pretty excited about his new job, and about moving to a "tropical island paradise," in his phrase. But round trip tix start at $1500 a pop, apparently, which means it won't be a top vacation spot for me any time soon. I'm happy for him and sad for me. I can't imagine making a change of that magnitude; too many ties binding me at least to this continent, if not hemisphere . . . Rob's mother, apparently, is beside herself. I can completely understand how she feels, and I think that Rob is rather in denial about her age and health and strength. She's not failing or anything, but she must be at least 70. "She can travel," says Rob. And I think, but for how long will that be the case?

Ah, well. I think I'll see whether the pool is indeed open until 9:00 tonight (by my reading of weather.com, it should be) and pop over there and cool my overheated inner core. Tomorrow will be another scorcher, and I don't plan to do any painting whatsoever; I can wait until Friday, when the temperatures are supposed to go back into the 70s. I'm hoping for a decent night's sleep tonight, a gander at the Tour de France in the morning (Lance is running away with it; today's time trial was just unbelievable), and maybe some work on my syllabi and another sojourn at the pool . . . In this heat, I almost miss going to an air-conditioned office . . .