I don’t know where or when summer disappeared. Maybe it was while I was in Corvallis the other night. I just know the five-day forecast above is not summer. And that bothers me because … it is almost June 5 and I am a Cajun!
Where I come from – Bayou Lafourche – it is already hot enough to boil a crawfish (not a crawdad) on the sidewalk. Eating crawfish, drinking Abita Amber, and swatting mosquitoes are Louisiana summer pastimes. Wearing long sleeves in early June is not, and I am destined to start tomorrow in a hoodie.
I admit this post does not have a rhyme or a reason. I just hoped if I shamed the sun maybe it would come out for more than 20 minutes this week in Portland. But alas, a man cannot shame the sun into doing anything. The sun shines on who it pleases.
And to think, Portland had two or three days in May where highs almost hit 90. Those were the days.
PS: I have now mentioned Corvallis in three of my last four blog posts. That is a record that will never be topped. It’s like if DiMaggio had hit safely in 112 straight games as opposed to 56.