HOT AND HOTTER

The Weather Gods tell us it will get to 106 degrees Fahrenheit here today.

It's already 93 at 9:30 in the morning.

Phoenix, about 90 miles away, is supposed to hit 115.

So what does my dear, dear friend Tom do?

He posts pictures of the fog they've been enjoying over on the Pacific Coast!

Rub it in, Tommy!

Well we have a way to beat the heat here too.

Take that, buddy boy.

And this, too.

You can keep your fog.

I'm feeling a lot cooler now.

UH, DAD???

Happy Father's Day!

SATURDAYS IN JUNE

Last Saturday I visited one of Prescott's many summer festivals on the Square.

I always stroll by the several food booths at these affairs to see what's new.

This was one I'd never seen before.

Up from the Old Pueblo (Tucson) an Oriental stand selling steamed buns, stuffed with a variety of fillings.

It was enjoying quite a bit of popularity.

I can never resist photographing this stand, not because I like tamales (I don't) but because of the great name.

This weekend the temperature is forecast to climb over 100 degrees with daily highs near or above the century mark for the next week at least.

Just in time this weekend there is a Monsoon Festival at the square with a two-block long water slide to take up the attention of young and old alike.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

Well, we have come to the denouement of another week.

I like using big words like "denouement" once in awhile to prove how smart I am.

Then I go to Google and look them up to see what they mean.

Whatever.

It is time for this week's edition of what you waded through Sunday through Thursday for.

The Friday Funnies!

And speaking of words, Auntie Acid has a thought.

When I show you two Auntie Acid cartoons in one day, I know it's time to wrap it up.

Have a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious weekend, Gentle Readers, and always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

This was the home of Frank Berry in Faribault, Minnesota.

He was my great-grandfather, the father of my grandmother, Daisy Berry Taylor.

She gave birth to my father, Franklin Berry Taylor, and my uncle, Zenas Howland Taylor, in a room at the top of the house.

The window up there gave plenty of light.

This was Daisy.

When the two brothers, four years apart in age, had grown they were photographed in Stanley, North Dakota with their parents.

My mother, Hattie Loretta Hylland, and dad were married in 1927.

This may have been their wedding picture.

They were so serious!

I like this next one, which I call their Bonnie and Clyde photograph.

They honeymooned for several months on what was called The Cooper Ranch, south of Stanley.

Many years later someone shot a picture of the by then rundown and overgrown ranch house.

But when they spent that year there, apparently the days were idyllic.

Good times, long, long ago.

BEAUTY AT SHIN-LEVEL

While strolling around the Territorial Days Arts and Crafts Fair last Saturday, I couldn't resist taking a photograph of this beautiful Basset Hound.

He was surrounded by fair-goers most of the time but he was perfectly mannered.

His sad eyes tell me he's thinking "Dang-blast that guy who used to sing 'You ain't nothin' but a hound dog.'"

TUESDAY TRAVELS

As the old song goes . . "Don't get around much any more."

But I did voyage the 8 miles into Prescott on Saturday to visit (among other things) the Territorial Days Arts and Crafts Fair.

It included a trip back in time to the days of tie-dye.

Still popular it seems.

There were tchotchkes of all kinds on view and for sale.

And some fine art, like this pottery from Mata Ortiz, in Chihuahua, Mexico.

As I told one lady visiting from Tucson, there is an event on the Courthouse Square nearly every weekend all summer long.

As you can see in the background of the next photo, its big trees and grassy lawn make it a great place to relax throughout the hot season and, perhaps, just listen to some music from the Yavapai Brass Quintet.