I signed on to the LA Times this weekend, and saw the weather was hot in my old hometown. High eighties, low nineties every day out, with Santa Anas expected. It made me nostalgic, because the year of Jake’s birth was quite similar. A long cool summer, with June gloom lasting well into August, followed by intense heat. I still remember the heat the day I went into the hospital to give birth, and the way the bright and seemingly unfiltered sun fell on the inside walls of my home’s living room and downstairs hallway, highlighting large swaths of space and leaving shadows in other spots all at the same time.

So when I found this story today, comparing Los Angeles weather in October of 2008 to that in October 1999, I felt … well, nostalgic. I’ve been thinking all weekend about the way the light fell in my house that day. It certainly distracted me from the numbing knowledge that I am now officially the mother of a tween.

Happy birthday Jake!

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