Complaining about the weather is a futile and pointless undertaking, but I'm going to do it anyway: It's been a rough summer so far.
The clime has really been stingy. Cloudy mornings and moderately warm afternoons have been the norm. My little city garden looks scrawny and pathetic this year. Here it is, mid-August and I've got little hard green berries instead of ripening tomatoes.
But now, we're heading directly into the brutal part of summer. If we're to believe the local news, Portland is about to enter a four or five day heat wave, with temperatures approaching the century mark. No easy transition measured out by a stretch of those nice summer days, when it starts warm and stays warm, but never gets too hot; those days when Portland is the best and easiest place to be in all the world.
What a shame!
With all the bad news lately, despite a victory or two, I'm starting to recall all those premonitions of disaster that were so prevalent during the Junior Bush era. Any person who cares to observe facts and trends can see where it's all heading. Nothing lasts forever. It could happen any moment.
Ah, why worry? We get summers like this every now and then. C'est le temps.
