Yesterday at 12:05 p.m., the temperature reached 102 degrees, breaking a record set in 1930. (www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/08/08/AR2007080801421.html?hpid%3Dmoreheadlines&sub=new)
Somehow I don’t feel like breaking out the confetti and champagne glasses.
This afternoon, around 1:15, as I was putting June down for her nap, I noticed it was very dark in the room and I could see tree branches whipping around outside in the wind. At 2:00 p.m., just as I was getting ready to pick up Noah at drama camp, it started to rain. June, who had been awakened from her nap, snuggled sleepily against my chest as we waited at the bus stop. The rain felt cool on my bare toes and made a pleasant tapping sound on the top of the umbrella. By the time we arrived in Silver Spring, it had stopped. It was still windy so it was hard to tell how much cooler it really was. We were a bit early so we headed for the turf. For the first time ever, June and I were the only people there. I watched June wander around its eerily empty expanse.
Back home, I checked the thermometer. Inside it was 88 degrees; outside 84 degrees. Noah insisted on staying inside and playing computer games in the study, the hottest room in the house (its windows are painted shut). Meanwhile, I changed June into her bathing suit, made myself a glass of lemonade and we hit the back yard. She amused herself climbing on top of the sandbox as I filled the wading pool. After fifteen minutes or so, Noah appeared in the back door, wanting to know if I’d read Through the Looking Glass to him. I read the chapter in which the Queen turns into a sheep and started the Humpty Dumpty chapter, soaking my feet in the pool. The air was warm, but not too hot. Not too hot at all. I could get used to this.