The house is already warm. I’m in the coolest room, and even here the humidity is creeping through the two open windows. Poor Miss Gracie is panting and has taken refuge in her crate. Soon enough, though, we’ll all be cool behind closed windows and doors with the AC blasting.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the start of the heat wave. I guess today is a dress rehearsal. This has really been a dreadful summer. We had weeks of rain, and this will be the third heat wave, though the cape’s has had only a pseudo heat wave because the ocean keeps us a few degrees cooler than off-Cape so we haven’t hit 90˚, just the high 80’s.

Last night it rained. I was outside with my friends when it started. At first it was a light rain then it was heavy enough to be heard hitting the umbrella and then we started to get wet. That’s when the evening ended. It was still raining when I went to bed, and when I woke up this morning, everything was still wet. I loved walking through the wet grass in my bare feet when I got the papers. I even left my footprints on the front steps.

My sister Moe spent her entire childhood with stubbed toes, and it didn’t matter whether or not she was wearing sandals. Her big toe never healed until it was time for shoes again. I always think it strange when odd memories like stubbed toes surface. It is an inconsequential memory which was probably buried as deep and as far back as my memory drawers go, but here it is. It makes me wonder what else is back there just waiting for its turn to surface.

My friend Maria and I joined St. Patrick’s drill team at the same time. I was ten and she was eleven. We were in the junior drill team which had a Saturday morning practice. It was in the old armory close to the square. On the first floor of the armory were several rooms and I remember lots of flags. One of the rooms had a pool table, and that’s where we’d often find the caretaker. The second floor was where we had drill practice for as long as I was in the drill team and longer than, but I don’t know how long. It was one huge room with windows on both sides, and it had a wooden floor. Because of the size of the room, we had to learn our competition maneuver in pieces. It wouldn’t be until warm weather that we could use a field and put all of the pieces together. I remember those Saturday mornings and learning first to stand at attention and parade rest. Then we learned to march in rows and lines. Maria and I laughed a lot, and we got in trouble for it a lot. It would be a year later that we were both moved to the senior drill team. Most of its members were much older that I: many were over sixteen and a few at eighteen were in their last year. I wasn’t ignored, but they and I had little in common. I was only eleven.

I remember going to an after competition party to celebrate the drill team having placed second. Most of the older girls brought their boyfriends, and I remember feeling out-of-place. That party was at a house which still stands. It is now a vet’s office and a day-care center for dogs. When I pass it to go to my sister’s house, I remember that party.