90

It is 90 degrees outside. Let me tell you how amazing that is.

From October 2010 to September 2011, my little coastal town never even made it to 70 degrees. That's 10-11 months under 70. Do I live in Alaska? No. No I don't. But I do live in a Coastal CA town that is frequently subject to an oppressive marine layer (I.e., fog).

Don't get me wrong. I love, love, love my little town (if you call it a town since, technically, I think we are a mere Community Services District), and I would rather have mild (read "cold") summers than oppressively hot ones. But it is nice to feel the sun on one's back every now and again. True, I can drive the few miles to work and be in a totally different, warmer climate, but it's fun to feel warmth in my home, and in my backyard, and it's even better to have a warm day at the BEACH.

So am I at the beach? No. No I am not. My family is. I am going to use this time to work on my dissertation. The good news? I'm going to take my iPad and my books and an iced chai latte, and head up to the fort that Hubby built (read "still building") in the back yard. It's on five-foot stilts; it has bamboo railing and "walls" made from rattan blinds. There is a corrugated plexiglass roof (that is not quite finished), and the whole thing is surrounded by honeysuckle and leaves from our neighbors Magnolia tree. Normally, it's a little chilly for me to hang out there.

But not today. Fort, here I come.

Update (a couple of hours later): The wind direction just turned on shore, and the temp dropped by
at least 10 degrees in 10 minutes.