But that won’t stop me. It’s hot. I know, I know, it’s a dry heat. But it’s that kind of heat that creates a force field that pushes you to the couch when you get home from work and makes you wait (let’s go back and watch our favorite Olympic moments, shall we?) until 7:00 pm to watch the Giants game. Luckily it pushes one’s child (who isn’t a child anymore) on the couch with you, who puts her head on your shoulder and says “I need to be in Oregon….now.” She repeats it many times, and it doesn’t even sound whiny. Just the truth. Only Steve escaped as he fled to the golf course, where he claimed it did eventually cool down. At 14-0 I left the game (and also gave up the wish that I were at the stadium instead of at home).
The cool breeze showed up at 4 am. Ahhhhh, summer.