Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

You know it's hot when you want your children to squirt you with icy water.

I have been overheated for over 24 hours. And as sweaty as I am, I love it. I relish extremes of temperature for reasons I cannot explain or understand. When the thermostat dips to all time lows, I love it. When snow falls furiously and without stop, I feel a wild thrill. And when it is so hot that I can barley breathe in my house or by the lake or any place else, I love that too. I think it's the wild abandon. The need to survive first and get things done second.

Today was that day. The morning sun fills our house. It is glorious almost every day of the year. On a day like today, it means sweltering before getting out of bed. I was hot before I got up, but the only thing upsetting about that, in my opinion, is that I can't enjoy my morning coffee without ice. A sweltering day inside means I have to stay out, and out is where I long to be whenever the sun is shining.

And to be honest, it was sweltering outside. But my kids had the kind of summer day I want my kids to have. Sun and sand. A breeze from the lake. Crusty bread dipped straight into the Nutella jar and fresh cherries for lunch. And lemonade. Lots of lemonade. It doesn't get much better than that.

Cate and I dropped Alex at school and wandered slowly and aimlessly around town. My only goal was iced coffee in the shade at Stage Coach. Such limited expectations allowed us to stroll. No hurry. We couldn't hurry or we would risk breaking an irrecoverable sweat. It meant we could stop under a shady tree and chat with anyone we might meet. And we did. And got our coffee and Goldfish crackers and sat in the shade until we were done sitting in the shade.

We picked a soggy Alex up from school (he just happened to run through the hose while his teacher was watering the flowers). We drove straight to the beach, skipping nap time (which later proved to be an error in judgement, but how was the girl supposed to sleep in that steamy bedroom?) Ironically, in this land of freedom, we were not allowed in the water because no life guard was on duty, but again, this proved to be to our advantage. With the lure of the sand diminished, we walked, on a quest, led by the self-named, Captain Skunkbeard for "hudden" (his word) treasure. The spot - the place he found treasure at this very park at his fourth birthday party. The Captain went ahead while his first-mate, Cate, stopped and picked every flower ("dower, " in her words) in sight. The trek to the hidden spot was long and hot. A chipmunk begged to be chased along the way. Seagulls threatened and had to be chased. Last year's black walnut shells had to be collected. Clovers and buttercups needed to be picked. Small streams and large rocks had to be jumped. But we arrived at the spot. The lovely, hidden spot, and while no treasure, save a large piece of glass, was found, there were rocks to skip and tiny streams to forge. More flowers to be picked and past adventures to be retold.

Back at home, Cate, now in the sandbox, successfully managed to make a small tower of sand with her bucket, exclaiming over and over, "Mama, I did it!! I did it!!" so clearly anyone could have understood her and given her a round of applause. Alex wandered out and played in the pool and ran circle after circle through the spray from the hose, laughing and giggling and so alive with the unguarded joy of summer.

And the garden is growing. The pumpkin leaves broad. The tomatoes getting tall. The sunflowers, showing their seed leaves and the lettuce and beets and beans and peas showing their first little shoots from the ground.

Tonight the deer might eat them. Tomorrow it might rain. But today was glorious and hot and the kind of day I hope fills the memories of my children when they are old and look back upon their childhoods.