Saw my first cicada today while walking around my brother's hood. Kind of exciting, but not that exciting as it was mainly just sitting there on the pavement looking not too well. Word has it that the great plague of cicada's is almost over so it looks like I missed the Biblical stage. We'll see what happens next week when I go to Baltimore (for those keeping score, this journey back east will include stops in DC, Harrisburg, Philly, back to DC, and then Baltimore). According to my father, the cicada's were so loud and so prevelant that they couldn't hang out on the front porch because of the noise.

It is, however, a little hot and a little muggy. Truth of the matter is that while the winter's never bothered me that much (my theory was that you could always just put more layers on. Plus, you could always go sledding), the summers did. I really don't like heat & humidity. No siree. In fact, I'd have to say that one of the most enjoyable feelings there is to be had in life is that blast of cold air you get when first entering a place that's air conditioned. Luckily, it's not too hot or too muggy, more like on the tipping point of it being too hot and too muggy. Just not hot enough to be miserable, but not hot enough to merit much in the way of air conditioning.