It's so very hot. I hate it. No, really, I hate it. Yesterday I walked outside and there, on the front steps, lay a carpenter bee, dead from the heat. I don't much like the carpenter bees (or the Carpenters) but still. Dramatic. There's no relief in sight and it just won't rain, despite being obscenely humid.
Last weekend, because we hate being trapped indoors even when it's Tennessee Williams' Play Hot, we took the girls downtown to Centennial Park to frolic in the fountain with all the other poor kids. Sarah was not down with that. She refused to leave the arms of one of us and since we had the bigass diaper bag and the camera with camera bag, one of us had to guard the goods. It was mostly me.
There I sat, near, but by no means in the cooling waters of the fountains. Sweat dripped down my back as I sometimes held Sarah (under Kate's big pink kitty umbrella) and sometimes made Jeremiah carry her around while I hovered over our belongings. It's not that I thought the other families would take them, but there were a lot of conventioneers about in their weird, matching t-shirts with uplifting theme-of-the-weekend phrases printed on them. I don't trust those people.
Anyhoo, the "Never Give Up!" folks aside (Wow, tote bags, wrist bands and buttons, too, huh?), it was a pretty good time and I thought I should post some photos from it. So, here they are.