Portland in August

The weather is perfect, overcast in the morning, almost like a blanket of cloud cover at the beach, except it's at the river.  The afternoons the sun burns fierce and hot, piercing through the tree cover as I pedal through the Westmoreland, and Sellwood neighborhoods, sleepy, peaceful days.  The Sellwood pool is filled with the mommies lounging in the pool chairs, their white hats draping over their eyes, while their kids splash, and learn to swim.  The handsome lifeguard in the lane next to me, with the tattoo on his right back shoulder, conducts a private lesson with the same boy he had 2 days ago.  He is focused and intent, and has a different drill for each lap.   I share the lane with a boxy 40's female, in a wetsuit, with fins on, and wonder if wearing fins is as effective as kicking your feet.    I slipped in today, no one at the front desk, didn't feel like standing there until someone showed up,  justified it as not being my fault, but held onto my $5 anyway.  Its a recession you know, and I'm unemployed.    I joined Justin on the drive to zoo camp today to pick up the kids - Ingrid, Mia's little friend [who has been ignoring me the last 2 mornings of car pool] was chatty today, telling us about her cat who had an enlarged heart and died.  She has a new kitten named Winter.  She tells us the story about torturing her older brother Owen running about the house wearing her mom's slippers and threatening to poke him with a sewing needle.  Owen ran to tell their mom, and while he was gone, she put the needle away quickly [deliberately, meditatively] and took off the slippers, and when the mom asked her 'what is going on here?' she innocently stated that she had been quietly playing in her room when Owen bothered her.  Ah yes, the beginnings of a young psychopath?