"It's not summer. I'm in school."
Out of the mouths of babes, comes the wisdom I've been searching for. Not only is it psychologically impossible for me to consider a ten month school year which begins before Labor Day, I now have empirical evidence that it interferes with learning. Mr. 8 refused to believe that Fall would begin when the equinox said it would begin and not when his school district decided.
I'm not sure that's what they mean by parenting against the culture, but it's somewhere close.
It's not Tucson's summer, that's for sure. It seems as if the south shore of Long Island has been superimposed on my new home town.
The air is thick. The clouds are gray. Ninety degree days are nearly unbearable; I am not accustomed to the humidity and I am not a happy camper.
I used to enjoy August afternoons. There was a laziness I never felt at any other time. The air was super-heated; the tar sealing the cracks in the pavement was sticky, and sometimes bubbly. I'd walk, alone, with no destination, letting the languor seep into my bones.
Hot town... summer in the city.... New York, Chicago, Ithaca, Washington, D.C..... but never San Francisco.
There are more cars on the streets, now that school is back in session, but they are purposeful vehicles. It's not the bizarre meanderings of snowbirds, uncertain of their destination and unable to see over their steering wheels. It's the power-combo of mom+mini-van+carpools.
They know which lane they need. They keep up with traffic. They signal before they turn. I can't say that I've missed their presence over these last few months, but at least they aren't getting in my way.
The car wash had a special last week. For the price of a detail, I'd also get a full service cleansing, inside and out. As an extra added bonus, if it rained before midnight, I'd have two days to take the car back and get it washed, again, for free.
Of course, it rained while The Schnozz was in the Pilates parking lot, two hours after we left the detailer and his greasy pony tail. I was busy the next morning. By the time I was able to go to the car wash for my free touch-up, it was raining once again. The same thing happened the next day.
I guess it's a good deal when you offer a promotion that cannot be redeemed.
The ocotillos are greening up, after days of rainy afternoons. I'd take a picture, but.... it's raining.
The rain is wreaking havoc with my cooking. I'm not a good cook. I don't take much pleasure in creating dinners. I do it because we have to eat and TBG is even less interested in the process than I am. I can plop things on the bbq, though, and that's how I've kept us nourished ever since we moved to Tucson.
I have a few cooktop and oven and crock-pot staples, but my default is What shall we grill tonight? Unfortunately, the bbq is metal and there is lightning brightening the sky as I type. I guess those steaks will have to wait until tomorrow.
I've gone an entire summer without being at the ocean. This may be a first for me, and it's not something I'm looking forward to repeating. The Pilates Diva and her husband have just returned from two weeks at the Jersey Shore; I could smell the salt water and hear the waves as she put me through my paces this morning.
If I can't have it for real, I'm not averse to stealing another's memories.