Woody Allen, not so funny

I'm updating at the request of SW, my old neighbor who has moved far far away. I miss you SW. There's a little somethin' somethin' in the mail for you.
So here I am, one month later and loving the mouth of the port. It's so quaint. Everything is so nauseatingly quaint, but in a good way. I've been exploring with my new bike. I love my bike. Today I rode to Maine, cause it's 5 minutes away, and I was thinking to myself, "I'm riding my bike in Maine. How cool am I?" Not very, since I still don't know how to correctly shift my gears.
This past week was hot. Not just hot, but hot hot. It was I-don't-have-an-air- conditioner-so-I'm-going-to-see-a-bad-Woody-Allen-movie-cause-it's the-only-thing playing hot! Movie theaters are so wonderful when it's unbearably hot outside. I even needed a sweater. And it rained while we were in there, so when we came out, it was no longer hot.
What made the hot week a little hotter was that I spent it working on an organic farm. I picked fruits, vegetables, used a hoe, cleaned a barn filled with rat feces, swept a green house, and cleaned the bed of a truck, just to name a few of the highlights. Oh, and I got to sell stuff that I picked at a farmers market. It was a lot of fun, despite the skin melting heat.