Ugh. Yesterday was another awful day. The conversion from centigrade to fahrenheit is one of the most difficult for me, so I finally cheated and looked on a US site for the temperature in Paris Thursday afternoon, and wasn't particularly surprised to see that it was 93. 93 and oppressively, painfully humid, with a hot sun filtering through thin grey clouds. The Metro was like a sauna. The heat became more a thing than a condition, an unfriendly, insulting being that made everyone sad and grouchy. Suzie cried when she saw a picture of our dog Elsie on the computer. Andrew cried for no apparent reason. I didn't have it in me to blog. Everything seemed irrationally, but certainly, hopeless. We all long for some cool green open spaces.
Fortunately during the night a front came through. It is fresh and cool outside. Hopefully it will revive us from our torpor.
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