Even though Patrick had to work part of the day, we got to enjoy playing games with family and going to watch the fireworks display. (Thanks again to Laura for the photos! Remembering a camera is obviously not one of my strong suits, but it's a skill I hope to develop. That way we might have documentation of at least half of our memorable moments...)
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| Lucy looking patriotic |
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| Playing patty cake while waiting for the fireworks to start |
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| Patrick pulling yet another silly face in what is supposed to be the "normal" family picture... (Although if I'm being honest this is probably much closer to reality.) |
As far as the rest of our weekend goes: I feel like the title is fairly self explanatory.
We live in an adorable little bungalow-style starter home that was built in the 1920s. It has plenty of personality and charm, but very little in the way of air conditioning (or storage space--but that's for another post). Add to all this the fact that it sits on a hill facing west, and you've got a perfect recipe for a human-sized Easy Bake Oven.
After two years in our home, we've developed a pretty good formula for keeping the temperature at tolerable levels during the summer months. (Please note: I say "tolerable" because from mid-June to late-September there's no such thing as "cool" in our house.) Using an elaborate time table for opening/closing windows and moving portable fans, we can usually manage to maintain the temperature in the mid 70s. But then there are the other days.
These are the days that I truly dread, and unfortunately, this Sunday fell squarely in that category. When we got home from church it was a daunting 83 degrees. Two hours later, when then sun hit the west facing picture window in the front room, it skyrocketed up to 89. It's just now come back down to 83 at nearly 10 o'clock at night...oy vey. On this kind of day I worry that my family will suffer from malnourishment. Pretty much the only things we ate were Jell-O and Popsicles. It's the kind of day that sucks the energy from my body and turns me into a zombie. It feels like all I do is shamble from room to room, stop randomly and stare for a minute, then turn and retrace my steps while trying to remember what the heck I was hoping to accomplish by moving.
This is also the kind of day when the dress code at my house becomes seriously "casual". Lucy wanders around in just a diaper. As for Patrick and I, we do stay clothed, but in as few layers as possible. (FYI: should you ever feel like visiting us on one of these kind of days--though I can't imagine why anyone would want to--we'd appreciate a head's up. And so would you.) If the temperature doesn't come back down to the tolerable range by morning, we may invite ourselves over to someone else's house where we can wear normal clothes without feeling like we're suffocating.
Right now, I'm just thanking my lucky stars that it's not hot and humid...I visited the South once, and it confirmed my doubts that I could survive that kind of environment.
