. . . as it was yesterday. Actually, this is what I've been doing for the last 22 days of 90+ degree temperatures in a house with four ceiling fans and no AC.

1. Lie directly below a ceiling fan in boxer shorts and a camisole and read. Favorites? The Used World by Haven Kimmel. Grace (Eventually) by Anne Lamott. Moscow Rules by Daniel Silva. Forward From Here by Reeve Lindbergh. What the Dead Know by Laura Lippman.

2. Go to the movies. Theaters always have air conditioning. In the past two weeks, I've seen four movies. My favorite was "Wall-E," but I liked "The Dark Knight" and the new X-Files movie, too. Thumbs down on "Swing Vote," though. Tomorrow: "Mama Mia."

3. Get some culture, preferably free or cheap. Seeing Daniel Silva at The Tattered Cover and Eilen Ivers at Lincoln Center (Fort Collins, not NYC) were heatwave highlights.

4. Hit the end-of-summer sales. Like theaters, retailers always have air conditioning. I picked up two tops, a dress, a pair of capris, and a skirt at Dillard's (much nicer than Macy's) for $106, total. All "Famous Names," too, as the ads always say. The dress alone was originally priced at $134. I swooned with joy.

5. Head to the mountains for a hike, and get caught in what folks around here refer to as a monsoon, making me feel like I'm living in southeast Asia.

We drove up to Indian Peaks today when it was 98 degrees here in the foothills. At 10,000-plus feet, it was only 84 degrees on the CRV's digital thermometer. When we got back to the car after a two-hour hike, the last hour of which was in a brutal rain and hail storm without our ponchos (The Stupids Go Hiking), it was 48 degrees and my fingers were turning blue. Three hours later, Hana is still slightly damp, since she couldn't change into something a little drier when we got home. But we are all a lot cooler.

Indian Peaks, pre-monsoon