It's hot. Really, really hot.
Did I mention the neighbor saying it gets into the 100's, 100+? Color me surprised, if not fucking pissed.
Luckily, the house is in shade most of the time due to our giant tree friends, keeping the kitchen at a balmy 88 degrees F. The upstairs is magically turned into a giant Vulcan wasteland, uninhabitable by humans, yet loved by the most foolhardy of cats.
I have made friends with my hot and cold gel pack. It is wonderful to live in a time where we are allowed to carry a slushy cold, frozen plastic bag of gummy bear consistency. They make wonderful laptop stands, and bring a zen like sense of peace to my heat enraged psyche.
Is it possible to make a Jungian slip?
I digress. We were invited over for dinner in Hillsboro. (heat bulletin, we noted that the external temp reading on the SUV was 113°F. i'm pretty sure the reading was skewed by the proximity of the sensor to a metal part exposed to the sun, but fuck. fuck! 113!)
Up in the mountains (or are they hills here ? ) the property provided insane views of Mt. Hood and Mt St. Helens. Incredible, beautiful house.
I've made it a policy, most of the time, to keep things as vague and anonymous as possible. To respect our hosts privacy, i won't mention names either. Besides, this style of writing gives me plausible deniability.
To our hosts,
Thank you for sharing your home with us, for making us feel at home and welcome as friends.
Thank you also for the killer food, was winnaz! *
*and for making sure we made it back to Yamill on that crazy unlit road.