Welcome Back

When I last left off, I was thinking about my life as a super hero and wondering if we aren't all a little bit like Spiderman. But I'll get back to that later.

I got distracted by summer, which was notoriously cold. And short.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, the rain normally starts to ease up in February and comes to a complete halt on the day after the 4th of July holiday. There are occasional dry days in April, May and June, although none of these occur on a holiday or a weekend or for a special event such as a wedding.

Once all the fireworks have gone off, however, it's suddenly (and exquisitely) dry and warm until Thanksgiving, when it floods (without exception) and all the locals act surprised (without exception). I am only allowed to make this observation because I am a transplant.

So, between the 5th of July and Thanksgiving, there are intermittent hot spells when temperatures may soar as high as 93. Three days of such a heat wave and true Northwesterners will begin to pine for the rain. Never fear: after 5 days, the temperatures will plummet to the mid-70s and all is right with the world for a week or two.

We will go through this cycle 4, 5 times in a summer.

Everyone's garden grows. Everyone's zucchinis are eaten by deer. I make fun of the web-footed natives who are truly tortured by temperatures above 82. All is right with the world.

But this year, not one Pacific Northwesterner complained. No one had the opportunity. We topped 90 just a few times--maybe three--and those days were followed by a week of rain. Gardens began to grow in August. Gardeners were holding out hope for a late harvest. Deer are waiting patiently in the wings.

It's only September 1st and already the furnace is kicking on at night. Yesterday, I wore a sweat shirt. And I had to dig my closed-toed shoes out of the back of the closet. It was still August then. Rain fell from the sky in torrents and bounced back up from the roadway in waves.

I passed a car on the interstate that hydroplaned onto the median and did a dozen donuts before coming to a stop. It had Oregon plates. Perhaps they were from eastern Oregon. But more likely they were just taken by surprise.

School doesn't start until tomorrow. The day after tomorrow...well, at this rate, it's shaping up to be the day after tomorrow!

Quick, find your parka and your hat and your scarf. They're in the closet some place. Try checking behind your closed-toed shoes. I know you've found those aready.

Bundle up! Keep warm! And keep reading!