But it is destined, I'm afraid, to be 96 degrees F. or so again later on, summertime being what it is. Today is the feast of Saints Abdon and Sennen, Martyrs (Introibo, CE, Wiki). Beyond the fact that they were Persians by birth and were martyred at Rome, apparently very little in known of them. The Introit of the Mass is Intret in conspéctu tuo, Dómine, gémitus compeditórum, from Psalm 78.
Intret in conspéctu tuo, Dómine, gémitus compeditórum: redde vicínis nostris séptuplum in sinu eórum: víndica sánguinem Sanctórum tuórum, qui effúsus est.
With the verse being Psalm 78,1.
Deus, venérunt gentes in hereditátem tuam: polluérunt templum sanctum tuum: posuérunt Ierúsalem in pomórum custódiam.
I believe I've already figured out that that's not at YouTube; Charpentier's Super flumina Babylonis H 170 instead.
Time for Prime.
Post Nonam. It is overcast, I realise, and the Dark Sky app has revised the high temperature down by one or two degrees, insisting that there are scattered drops of rain out there. Listened to the first concert of the BBC Proms (a MacMillan premiere that I wasn't specially overwhelmed by but...) and have neglected to turn off Radio 3; the program is called The Verb, a group of writers, evidently, chatting about themselves and their opinions. From the one perspective, it is vaguely interesting, at least as a parody of intellectual life; from another ('can we find a new language for time?') it is such a mush of pretentious bourgeois self-obsession-- of course this episode is about writing a manifesto so probably over-loaded with nonsense. Eh.
Post Vesperas. The temperature is indeed falling (well, from 96 to 94) but it is supposed to reach 80% humidity in the morning. Gosh.
It is also the feast of Saint Julitta (4th century), of Saint Olav (11th century), and of Saint Angelina (16th century).
V. Et álibi aliórum plurimórum sanctórum Mártyrum et Confessórum, atque sanctárum Vírginum. R. Deo grátias.