Back in the Lou for a few days, and surprise! It feels like a million Swedes opened their sauna doors in my face the minute I step out on my porch. Some people call this summer, but I call this gulag. For me, and the rest of the civilized population up there on the 45th parallel, summer is a time when you get to wear bathing suits during the day and jeans and a sweatshirt at night. Glorious balance.
But! I am happy to be home. I missed my man and my cat and I need to get cracking on this baby room and oh yeah, also all of the schoolwork that for some reason didn't get done while I was up northing lolling around on the beach. So instead of whining about how the air here feels like molasses, I will simply close my eyes, think cool thoughts, and remember all the glorious watery-ness of the past week.
Also? We canned peaches! My domesticity knows no bounds.
