The Fall Inferno: Clearly payback for playing death-ray with my magnifying glass. I can smell the Sea & Ski now and see my mom cooking fried chicken in the electric frying pan, generating less heat than the oven.
But the best part was pink lemonade poured into an ice tray with a stemmed maraschino cherry to hold onto this delectable cube of cool.
All this chow eaten outside in whatever shade available: In Westlake, the mandatory palm trees were useless. Playing fireman with the garden hose on our postage-stamp lawn while praying for even the gentlest of breezes was our air conditioning system. Plans to camp out on the front lawn never quite materialized as ghost stories always appeared from thin, hot air.
Monterey was Hell yesterday and this morning: dense fog warning in Carmel Valley. Gotta love living on the coast.