Direct from a land where ‘hot’ is anything over 64 degrees.

Walnut Creek is HOT! And I’m not talking Paris-Hilton’s-That’s Hawwwwt-hot, I’m talking sweaty-knee-pits-need-to-be-naked-DIRECTLY-in-front-of-the-air-conditioner hot.

We have been here all of about two and a half hours and we are already sweating in places we forgot we even had, and doing a pretty good job of shedding any non-essential pieces of clothing, whilst also loitering for extended periods in direct proximity of the air conditioner (which, much to Celene and Thad’s dismay, we have cranked to super-max.)

Hold on a sec, I need to take a drink of my alcoholic beverage and rub it’s sweet sweaty condensation all over my torso…..

There. That’s better.

So anyway, did I mention it was hot? We dug out the only nightgown Stella owns (had to literally pull the tags off it before I put it on her) and figure that we will need to wash it every day while on this odyssey, because you don’t find a lot of use for long-sleeved, footed fleece pajamas while traveling through geographic regions whose temps rival those of, oh say, Hades!

Our itinerary tells us we have one more day here wherein we plan to keep ourselves either submerged, neck-deep in the pool, or in some fancy-pants Walnut Creek establishment sucking every ounce of freon they have to spare. After that, we will be packing up our sorry, heat-loathing selves and relocating to some increased elevation, thereby removing us, ever so slightly, from the sweltering temperatures.

When did we become such wussies?