Hot Summer is Here

Our long, hot Miami summer is here. We've been having a lot of rain, and we seem to be getting into the standard weather pattern of clear mornings followed by major afternoon thunderstorms.

As I write this, the huge clouds are gathering from the West. I keep thinking about the lost Air France Airbus, and what it must have been like for those poor souls as the storm was breaking apart the plane. I learned years ago that aviation types always refer to passengers on a plane as "souls." I guess it's assumed that so many will become that over time...

When I used to fly in my boss Ed's planes, his pilots always talked about avoiding thunderstorms and their fierce inner winds. I guess the facts will come out as to why the Air France pilot flew right into the teeth of one. Or maybe it won't. Still, as I look skyward, I think about these poor souls.

Back on the ground: D2 finished an EXTREMELY hard academic year, and did wonderfully. I'm extremely proud of her. She got excellent grades, and is getting invites to apply from elite colleges. The best is Princeton: "We think you might be Princeton material..." D2 says she won't get in, and that the Ivies just want a bunch of students to keep applying to keep their ridiculously selective admission rates.

Still --when I was a rising senior, no schools like that wrote to me. I heard from the Hofstras and Haverfords of the academic world. Go D2!

D1 is busy, as always. She's taking Chemistry at FIU and interning for a nutrition research company in the afternoons. She'll take some time off at the end of the summer before moving into an apartment for her SENIOR (CARAMBA!!!!) year.

This morning we discussed graduate school. Weren't we just discussing Middle School?

Wifey is off to the vet with the Bassett Hound, again suffering from some type of stomach ailment. We're hoping it isn't another rock lodged in her gut. The last one cost us several thousand dollars...but we did get to keep the rock.

I've been putting in normal hours at work, so decided to play hookey today. I'm not a Protestant, and don't want to be accused of having their work ethic.

It's sunny out, and I just heard a clap of thunder. Harry Nielson sang about Miami weather the best, when he wrote about going where the sun keeps shining through the pouring rain.

A glass of iced tea and a rolling storm call me to my front porch. Hopefully the sick Bassett will be joining me soon.