The absurdity of living in the great north is that we find it difficult to sleep when the temperature reaches the high 60s. It is a scorcher when outside is 79. And it is only mildly cold when it is 45. Last night it was sweltering. For the first time this year we turned on the ceiling fans.
This morning as Jane watched me make the bed she gasped and pointed to the ceiling. "Look, Mommy, the light is dancing."
Little does she know we are moving to a land where you hope your lights rumba and waltz perpetually.
3 hours ago