I also hoped to have a chance to work on a new short story, a jeans jacket, and a rug.
But when it hit 33˚C (91˚F) by 10 am, and my paint was skimming over in the can and drying instantly on contact with the wall, I knew something had to be done.
I called the kids for a meeting.
“It’s hot,” complained my daughter.
“Yes. It is. Should we go to the beach?”
The vote was unanimous, so while I put away paint brushes and ladder, the kids gathered boogie boards, towels and togs.
In five minutes, we were on the road.
It was a brilliant day for swimming—big waves, a gentle sea breeze, sand hot enough to peel skin…
And the chores will be there tomorrow.