mittens in july

This week I have three houses (I'm pet-sitting).   Whichever one I'm at, I feel as though I'm neglecting the others.  Sad puppy-dog eyes from two of them and another that is not yet habitable due to the mountain of boxes containing all my earthly possessions, waiting patiently to be unpacked.

Last night's temperature was a mere 84 degrees, making the drive up to the Heights more pleasant with the windows down.  Especially at the light at Studemont and Washington, as the best smell of baked goods wafted in from the Sunbeam bakery down the street.  Fresh bread at a quarter to midnight.  Probably in the top five all-time best smells.  I sniffed as much as I could until the light changed and I was left huffing car exhaust.