Hello, Strawberries

It's strawberry season in upstate New York. I have fond memories of strawberry picking when I was young, and while we were visiting last week, almost made Adam pull over so we could scavenge a field, or at least pick up a pint or two. But we didn't. We made it back to Alabama, where strawberries are in season in April, and found them on sale. I snatched up two pints and decided to bake drop biscuits to go with the sugar-covered berries. Adam cooked dinner, and I put on Weezer's blue album and whipped up a dozen biscuits. I threw them in the oven and, while we ate dinner, the oven flipped to Autoclean, locking the oven with my biscuits inside. By the time we figured out how to get them out, they were a bit overdone, but they're delicious nonetheless. They made a superb breakfast this morning (and late afternoon snack, and probably dessert).

Have I mentioned that it's hot in the Southeast? Well, let me take this opportunity: It. Is. Hot. The high was 100, tying the record set in 1891. Today is not a lick better. I just ran outside to pull laundry from the clothesline and even Penny, who likes to lie in the sun on the deck when it's too hot to walk on, was asking to go back inside.

Yesterday, we packed up the munchkin and took her to the mall to wander around in the air conditioning. Ours is still running nonstop and not cooling the house well. The thermostat read 85 at one point, and I asked Adam to run to the store to buy a box fan so we could try to circulate some of the hot stagnant air through the house. It feels much cooler in here, though the air conditioner is still running (and running and running).

Tomorrow, I have plans to take Lily to the beach for the first time. It's supposed to be a bit less hot, and I'm hoping to be out the door earlyish in the morning to visit a friend who has a house on the beach. I'm looking forward to working on my tan since this will be the first time I've been in a bathing suit since the peanut was born. Either way, it should beat the pants off of sweating to death in the house all afternoon.