It is here, according to weather.com, eighty-five degrees outside. I don't think we're really quite there, and my guess is that the temperature will dip before we ever reach the potential high for today. But, I concede it is warm. And it hasn't been really warm all year.
But it is also windy, cloudy and grey. And because my children are set on having a Summer (and whose children aren't?), our sprinklers are on and my children are running through the wind-whipped water determined to have a good time in between bouts of shivering in their new beach towels wrapped around them.
I have a memory from when I was a child of a Summer that never quite warmed up. I waited and waited for the melt-in-your-skin days that never showed. The excursions to the pool were fun, but a little chilled. It was always pleasant, but it was never Summer. Never too hot. While that would not bother me now, I was surely disappointed then.
Some years much earlier my brother and I stubbornly filled our small wading pool on the last day of school, sometime at the end of May, and we fearlessly froze as we slid down the slide of our swing set and into the water. School was out and Summer was here regardless of the temperature and our mother (who was conveniently off running errands when we arrived home and couldn't tell us no).
My rule these days is that we must hit 80 degrees before the swimsuits come out. My children find this somewhat heartless and frustrating, especially with our state's current love affair with drippy, cold weather (and in a desert? who knew?). But today, sprinkler running not quite full-blast, Summer is here.
But don't check the weather forecast for the rest of the week.