We're in another heat wave, temps to reach 90 degrees by tomorrow and continue to scorch into next week sometime. This is what happens here. Last year, the heat started in May and there wasn't a drop of rain until November. I think it will be the same again this year. Crap.
Laying on the floor with the dogs this afternoon, all three of us panting, I thumbed through my latest magazine from Colorado, this one from Pagosa Springs. I gazed longingly at the cool mountains, the people on inner tubes bobbing through town on the San Juan River, read the chart that shows night temperatures never go higher than the 40s. (Last night it was 79* in my bedroom...and no, in case you were wondering, I didn't get any sleep).
So, because of the heat I went shopping early today. Walking down the main aisle at my grocery store I saw display after display of Summer stuff: sunglasses, suntan lotion, flip flops. I stopped to admire the variety in these cheap, expendable rubber shoes.
And I just had to have a pair.
Flip flops have been the official shoe of Summer since...ever, I guess. When I was a kid, as soon as school got out, the flip flops went on. With three girls, it was the cheapest thing in the world--other than barefeet--to outfit us for the next few months. Even when the toe separator piece would break, Mom wouldn't grouse. For a buck, she would just pick up a new pair next time she went to the store.
I haven't worn a pair of flip flops for ages; I moved on, sliding my feet into designer sandals instead.
Today I bought these:
The first thing I did when I got home was put them on. They fit perfectly, the cushion is springy, yet firm. But it's the snap. It means Summer to me almost more than anything else. With every step, the rubber snaps against your heel, the sound clear and distinct; one that can only come from a pair of flip flops.
Summer has come to southern Oregon. The snap says it all...