I’m still here, I promise.  Only it’s been like a billion degrees for the last seven hundred days and the very last thing I’ve wanted to do after dragging my sweaty body home from the beach or the pool or wherever we’d gone that day to try to survive was to log on and try to be witty.  Hot and witty don’t go together.  Now, cold and witty?  That’s a marriage made in heaven.  But thanks to Al Gore, cold is not in the forecast, darn him.
I did write this morning in a quick break from holding a feverish Lucy on my lap and catching Peter’s pukas in the pukas bowl.  And what came out was very real and a little dark (as many real things are) and I’m not ready to share it today because today belongs to other things.  But I’ve been bombarded with women who are struggling and know my story and have come calling asking for hope and prayers and more hope.  And it’s led to my heart being full.  And since this is all about being real, I was this morning, and I still am, only I’ll save that heavy post for another day in favor of something lighter.  But I’ll post that one soon, I promise.
So we have been here, having fun despite record highs that refused to come down.  We’ve been:
~ordering me new frames from this place.  you can try five at a time and they’re only $95.
~addicted to watching this.
~rediscovering that I love tennis.  who knew?
~eating this and this.  lots of both.  remind me to grow jalepenos next year.
~mastering the blob at a friends cottage.
~eating popsicles like they’re going out of style.  even though they’re not.
~drooling over everything here.  I mean, seriously, it’s too much.
~reading, no devouring, In the Garden of Beasts and Kisses for Katie (which has totally wrecked me) and The Penderwicks with the kids while they do crafts or lay on the floor moaning and asking if I’ll please turn the air on for the love.
~downloading apps for the olympics so the girls can watch equestrian events that I refuse to wake them up at 4:30 am for.
~burning through hundreds of feet of paracord as we’ve made these.
~wathing tessies hair turn green from all the chlorine she’s been in.
~vacuuming up paracord shrapnel.
~finishing sentences with dear friends.
~counting down the days (0!!) until our Aunt Veti and Uncle Ole-Kristian step off their plane in into our arms. which will launch two weeks of non-stop action with my family.  can.  not.  wait.
This is me being real.  Loving summer.  Ready to sit on the beach with my sisters.  All my sisters.

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