I went to the beach on Saturday. Good thing. Not only because it was the first time this year, and I was reminded of how wonderful and refreshing it is to sit on the sand, look at the waves, read a Carl Hiassen novel, check out the eye candy (if there is any - never a sure thing at the beach I go to) and forget about everything else, the rest of the world, for an hour or two or four. This weekend also happened to bring on the hottest weather of the year so far.
It seems we’ve been lucky here. June was cloudy and downright cool. We’ve had some pretty warm days, but even the fourth was almost comfortable. Now, in the high 90's if not the low 100's, our luck is running out, and it’s just hot, with not much relief even when I go to bed at night and when I get up in the morning.
On Saturday, I once again marveled at how much cooler it is on the coast and lamented that it’s 40 miles, as well as well over a trafficked hour and plenty of precious gas, away. It also reminded me of when I once went up north to Berkeley in August years ago.
My attendant and I were running late, and I had him stop at a gas station and call the hotel to say we’d be late and to hold our room. The guy at the hotel told my attendant with some alarm, "It’s 85 degrees! You don’t want to come here!"
85 degrees! If only! I did - and do - want to go there!