"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.  The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. ...These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after." -Tuck Everlasting- 

Our library displayed this marvelous quote today and my languished state sighed a deep AMEN in response. I have never read Tuck Everlasting and I plan on correcting that fact this afternoon. Although its almost too hot to read. Almost.

Myles returned home from two weeks of camp happy, exhausted, and penitent. I am enjoying watching him savor his old comforts.   He can't keep his nose out of a book for one thing.  And he is happy about going to bed for another.  Apparently a bit of homesickness was the perfect cure for boyish summer angst. Fiona was home with me hosting family and friends in from overseas. She missed Myles and is marveling his partially subdued state.  It seems like a different brother came home.  One who hugged her upon seeing her and responded enthusiastically as she filled him in on all the things he missed.

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