Wednesday it reached 96 degrees. Bluh.
It was my day off from work. I was updating my financial spreadsheets on the laptop in the shade of the back yard and Tara popped her head out at me earlier than I expected. Wednesday is also early release day at the high school.
“It’s soooo hoooooottt….” she moaned, by way of hello. She had just walked home through the hot sun from the bus stop.
“Wanna skip ballet and go to the river?”
I didn’t have to ask twice.
The people at the river felt so real, so local. What a different group than I usually find myself amongst, when in Portland. No tourists here. No hipsters. No elitism.
Instead, there were families. Old guys with cigars, babies, dogs, giggling girls, young mothers, and beer guzzling young men. There were bad tan lines, sagging skin, sun browned limbs, old clothes, plastic sunglasses and flip flops. Yes, it felt pretty darn redneck, and happy, and simple.
It was a perfect place to be.