Long Days and Sweet Nights

I'm sitting outside at 9:40 in the p.m.  It's finally comfortable out, if you can call being swarmed with every flying thing within a six block radius "comfortable."  At least the heat has gone to bed.  It was 110 today.  That's about 25 degrees hotter than it should ever be.  I'm pretty sure there are spots in hell that are cooler than that.

My wife is at work and after a long day, longest actually, I've just cracked open a Red Stripe, turned on some music (this post was written to Band of Horses, Calexico, and Joe Purdy, respectively), and started to unwind, which is really just working for a few hours but outside with bugs and beer.

A little over an hour ago I was sitting at this same table on the same lawn(ish), but I wasn't thinking about writing or deadlines.  I was sitting with my boys, both of them tired and true, always true.  I had made grilled cheese for dinner, per their request.  What they hadn't requested is that I make the sandwiches on some wacky English muffin bread I had picked up at Trader Joe's, or that I use a smoked cheese, or that I slice open whole green chilies and hide them between slices of said cheese, but I did, and they ate them, never the wiser.

We sat here and we had what passes as conversation between an old man, a rapid talking two-year-old and a freshly turned five-year old.  We talked of swimming pools and video games, dogs and the birds of twilight.  There was no rush, no rules and no agenda, just 3 guys that could really use a bath, a good meal and lots of laughter.

This, I thought, is what it is all about.

And here I am an hour later, the boys in bed, the dogs chewing loudly in food bowls they had hoped to ignore, and a layer of bugs upon the screen of my laptop, and it feels like a summer should feel.

I could get used to this.