Oh, my Lord. It's 28 degrees, with a humidex of 35. THIRTY-FIVE. It's too hot to move. Too hot to think. Certainly too hot to be sitting in my steamy (that word's for you, Kevin) hot kitchen typing... Everything is so still, even the air doesn't want to get breathed. Time for a cool soapy shower, then I'll just sit in front of the fan in the living room and go catatonic until the tots wake up. I do have stuff to say, but it can wait till that thunderstorm that's brewing hits and clears the air a bit. Later!