So I was just down at Newport Market for their excellent Friday afternoon wine tastings, and apropos of a mention about beer I commented to the assembled crowd that I had just gotten back from Austin where the beer fanciers like their bocks and hefes.
A few nodded wisely. One commented that your Texans like their yeasty beers.
"How was the weather?" A fellow nosing his way about a 2008 Broadley Vinyards pinot noir (excellent, by the way) asked.
Hot, I said. About 90 degrees, and 95 percent humidity.
He looked at me. "I bet you're glad to be back where it's cool and dry."
I am. A man that can get through an Austin summer day without fully-saturated underdrawers is a better man than I.
Mrs Elliott, however, claims that it is freezing here. She is not happy. "I hate this sucky weather," she stated.
I think she has been reading Blackdog's blog. The dark side of The Force.
But she's tired after the PBS conference, the packing up, the flight back from Texas; and so I've built a roaring fire in the living room fireplace for her, where she is catching up on her shows which were recorded in our absence.
I'm looking out the kitchen window, all the way to Bessie Butte, eight miles south-southeast of our location. The sky is filled with ever-changing clouds and light, the trees outside the window are bending before the wind, and the new Italian plum tree we planted in the backyard two weeks ago is in bloom.
I look forward to our summer. We have skies here.