Hot Weekend
It was hot this weekend. We’ve been lucky this summer—there have been fewer than usual weekends whose defining element was the heat. Nonetheless, when it does happen, it’s dramatic, even with central AC.
Saturday we drove to Napa to spend the day with Beth and Nate and the babies. The morning was deceptively cool, but once Nate and Andrew went out to play golf, the day grew rapidly hotter—even in Napa, which generally escapes the level of heat we have in the Sacramento area. By the afternoon, when we all set out to have lunch at the Napa Blues & BBQ Festival, it was blazingly hot. Blazingly. An inferno. Well over 100 degrees. The babies’ cheeks quickly grew bright red. Beth and I wandered around for food in a kind of heat-coma. It wasn’t long before Andrew and Nate caught up with us and suggested we just go to a restaurant, any restaurant, with AC. Our hearts full of hatred for NorCal, we abandoned the festival and had an AC-focused lunch instead.
It was even hotter, of course, once Andrew and I got back to Roseville, and though we turned on the AC in the house immediately, it seemed to do little good. At 8:30pm, we gave up our efforts to stay cool at home and went to the pool, which helped immensely. The baby, who had been uncharacteristically still during the drive home and most of the evening, perked up. (I am convinced, despite medical opinion to the contrary, that the baby can tell when it’s inhumanly hot outside, and that she hates it.)
So, a hot day. Dreaming of relief from the summer, I unfortunately remembered last year, when it stayed incredibly hot through October. I’m very happy to be having a fall baby, but the baby’s first fall isn’t going to be the kind of fall it should be. She won’t be coming home to crisp fallen leaves and chilly blue skies; she’ll be coming home to temperatures in the high eighties. If there are jack-o’-lanterns anywhere, they will likely be rotten, as ours were last year. I suppose the baby won’t care, and I’ll probably have other things on my mind, too. But in these last few weeks of pregnancy, my thoughts will wander where they will.
Saturday we drove to Napa to spend the day with Beth and Nate and the babies. The morning was deceptively cool, but once Nate and Andrew went out to play golf, the day grew rapidly hotter—even in Napa, which generally escapes the level of heat we have in the Sacramento area. By the afternoon, when we all set out to have lunch at the Napa Blues & BBQ Festival, it was blazingly hot. Blazingly. An inferno. Well over 100 degrees. The babies’ cheeks quickly grew bright red. Beth and I wandered around for food in a kind of heat-coma. It wasn’t long before Andrew and Nate caught up with us and suggested we just go to a restaurant, any restaurant, with AC. Our hearts full of hatred for NorCal, we abandoned the festival and had an AC-focused lunch instead.
It was even hotter, of course, once Andrew and I got back to Roseville, and though we turned on the AC in the house immediately, it seemed to do little good. At 8:30pm, we gave up our efforts to stay cool at home and went to the pool, which helped immensely. The baby, who had been uncharacteristically still during the drive home and most of the evening, perked up. (I am convinced, despite medical opinion to the contrary, that the baby can tell when it’s inhumanly hot outside, and that she hates it.)
So, a hot day. Dreaming of relief from the summer, I unfortunately remembered last year, when it stayed incredibly hot through October. I’m very happy to be having a fall baby, but the baby’s first fall isn’t going to be the kind of fall it should be. She won’t be coming home to crisp fallen leaves and chilly blue skies; she’ll be coming home to temperatures in the high eighties. If there are jack-o’-lanterns anywhere, they will likely be rotten, as ours were last year. I suppose the baby won’t care, and I’ll probably have other things on my mind, too. But in these last few weeks of pregnancy, my thoughts will wander where they will.
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