Hey, don’t update me, man!

If you can put a variation of that phrase together with Dick Whittington’s cat, your mind is officially as scary as mine. Blogger has been updating, so I’ve been unable to post. God only knows if this will work.

Summer is officially here! Not because it’s sweltering (though it is), not because I come home every night to find a tribe of kids in my driveway playing with the hose (though I do), but because last night we had supper at the pool. We belong to a little pool club that’s been around since the ’50s at least, just about 10 minutes away. It is always on the verge of being sold for development, but every year it opens up again and we spend four or five nights a week lounging around the pools. Something of a delightful throwback to a time when everyone wasn’t expected to put a pool in their own yard (membership costs less than the chemicals for my own pool would). Our area has several drive-in movie theaters, as well, so laugh at little Albany if you wish, but in the summer this area kicks ass. Summer, unfortunately, lasts eight weeks.

Too hot to bike. Too hot to do anything but lounge by the pool. Need to run out and find new pants for a wedding tomorrow, and then a-swimming we will go.