We took Will out in an inflatable kayak for the first time today, wearing a tiny wetsuit. He looked so solemn as he inspected the boat, and kept grabbing Pete’s paddle – at least three times the length of his body – once we were in the water.
I swam alongside the boat. Every time I dipped under and came up for air, blowing bubbles, Will’s face lit up with the same big goofy smile he gives me every time I reappear from behind a curtain or pillow. When Pete paddled him into some gentle standing waves, he giggled and cooed.
I typically enter my summer hibernation when it hits triple digits, sleeping as much as possible and refusing to leave the air conditioning. But even though I am a weakling — tonight I’m contemplating sleeping on the kitchen floor linoleum because our air conditioner is broken – I am actually enjoying this summer.
It’s hard to reconcile enjoyment with the dread and horror of the news. But both are true. Tonight I made strawberry rhubarb pie using balls of dough I’d been storing in the freezer for at least a year. We drizzled custard over chunks of not particularly flaky crust and spoonfuls of fruit. Now the cat is sitting on my feet, the fan is roaring, and a mild sunburn is still gently heating my shoulders. My hair is still wet, which should help me get to sleep. I’m grateful, as always, for the river that makes this feeling possible on even the hottest days — its constant presence, so welcoming and cool.
