That means we slept 4-6 hours, usually interrupted (I, for one, was wakened by small children around 7 times in the 6 hours we were supposed to be asleep). So everyone is tired and grouchy. Usually hungry, too.
In Vegas, that means HOT. Hot like it caresses you. Hot like you're inside the oven. Hot like you can feel it coming up from below as well as down from above. Hot like your skin is hot to the touch when you get inside the house.
Hot like 102 in the shade where the swamp cooler vents onto the porch.
Hot like 83 degrees inside and we can't do much better than that.
So what are we doing to keep cool? FANS everywhere. And sit still or sleep:
Caleb and Anda reading Harry Potter 5 and 4 (respectively) in their room where the fan is blowing on them:
Nathanael napping near the swamp cooler vent:
Scantily clad Daniel playing "sprites" (light bright) right where the cooler blows:
Benji found this large flower pot in the back yard, filled it with water from the hose, stripped off his diaper, and sat in it for 20 minutes:
Tim's sleeping. I'm blogging.
And It's HOT.