Having bitched my heart out about the punishing heat this summer, I owe a debt to the weather gods to salute the lovely days that have been with us since the last week in August. We can use some rain, but the nights are cool and the days are on the lower side of warm, and that’s a good thing. Most days, my hair looks the same at 3 p.m. as it did right after I blew it dry after my shower, which means my head isn’t schvitzing like a dockworker all the livelong day. So that’s good.

Right now, I’ve leaning against some pillows against the footboard of our bed, spread out an old down blanket, and Wendy is curled up at my feet, snoring a little, sometimes wagging her tail in a dream. The laundry’s done, the larder is full, I got in a little workout, I restocked at Costco. I’ll owe some money to the IRS in another week, but the wolf is far from the door. My local CVS has the new Covid vaccines, and I’ll get one soon. It’s a good day.

Wendy’s getting on in years — 13, as far as we know — and is showing it in ways large, small and sad. So I’m taking time to appreciate my little dog. We go on more, but shorter, walks. I changed her food from kibble to kibble-and-canned to be easier on her achy teeth. She’s still got that spark, but it’s more mellow, like the autumn sunshine. One reason we haven’t taken a big trip this year is Wendy. I don’t want to leave her with Kate (no fenced yard, cats) for three or four weeks anymore, and she’s so sensitive, that much time in a boarding kennel would kill her. But I don’t mind. She came with us to the U.P., and for our next trip — three nights in Fort Wayne next week — she’ll be fine with a babysitter.

Did I mention we are going to the Fort next week? We were invited — GOD KNOWS WHY — to one of those Chamber of Commerce “homecoming” events. Does your city do those? Detroit’s regional chamber did for a while. They invite notable expats back to town to see the shine they’ve put on it in the meantime. We’re staying at the Bradley, the boutique hotel built by the Vera Bradley people, and some friends will be in the group as well. The idea seems to be to invite potential investors (not our cohort) or opinion leaders (ditto) and spread the good word. Honestly, I have no idea why we’re included, but I’ll try to sparkle and not be too mean to the Republicans.

Speaking of which! What a last few days it’s been for the GOP, and once again, I’ve lost track of the current outrage. Is it Croaky going on the attack about vaccines? Or the Department of WAR-RAWR-WARRRRRR rebrand? There are days when I have to avert my gaze and just appreciate the weather for a moment. Although there are moments of grim, black humor, as here:

While the criticism of Kennedy slowly grows from different sides, I fear it’s too little, too late. Considerable damage has already been done to Americans’ trust in vaccines under false pretenses. A veterinarian recently told NBC News about people expressing their concerns to her about giving their pets vaccines out of fear that they will harm their pets, causing autism or other cognitive issues. When people are afraid of dog autism, it’s going to take a lot more than some harsh words at a little-watched Senate hearing to get us back on track.

Dog autism. Dogtism.

On Thursday, the day this little-watched hearing took place, I took some time to take myself out to lunch, and watched the live updates with analysis on the NYT site as I worked through my pizza and Diet Coke. Claim after claim by Croaky was batted down, and now I can’t find it on their website, although there are plenty of stories wrapping it up. What a psycho that guy turned out to be. Alan thinks he’ll be fired, but I’m putting my chips on the No Way square. Trump never admits a mistake, and he likes anyone who stands up to Elizabeth Warren. We’re stuck with him. As the Onion noted: Kennedy Curse Sure Taking its Sweet Time With RFK Jr.

And now I think I’ll take myself out in this lovely late-summer sun and maybe slowly amble my old dog around the block. The Lions play in half an hour. It’s a nice Sunday.