Today I am grateful to be sitting in an air-conditioned room. We turned the switch to ON around midnight last night, deciding that if ever we would use artificial means to cool the air, this would be the time to do it. I am keeping the temperature at 80 degrees Fahrenheit, and because the humidity is controlled, that is a very comfortable temperature.

After visiting the museum, I have picked one of Attila's books off the shelf for a closer look. It is "The World of the Pharaohs: A Complete Guide to Ancient Egypt", by Christine Hobson. The Time Line stretches from 3500 BC to AD 500.

This complete guide spans 4000 years in a mere 192 pages of print, and that would mean that each page of the book represents approximately 21 years of history. If I live to be 84 years old, why that would mean that the entire history of my lifetime would be contained within four pages of this book. Subtract some of the text to make room for the many pictures, and the history is shorter still. Subtract a significant amount of text for the descriptions of the modern explorers and their theories, there is even less room for Ancient Egyptian history.

I do not have any particular argument with the book itself; it is well written and quite interesting. However, it seems to me that the title, "The Complete Guide to Ancient Egypt", may be satirical. If it is a serious attempt to reflect the contents of the book would not "Ancient Egypt in a Nutshell" or "Ancient Egypt: What Little We Know" be more appropriate titles?

All day I have heard the muffled sounds of a car door, closing, closing, closing. When I looked out the window I could see that the sound came from next door. The little boy that lives there sat in the car, windows rolled up, occasionally getting out, but always getting back in, and closing the door. Later, it dawned on me why that car door seems to have been in constant use today. The car is air-conditioned; their home is not. He sits in the car to keep cool, gets bored, exits the car to roam about in the heat for a while, and then returns to the cool car.

I hope the heat breaks soon. I think of Attila out amongst the trees today. Usually I envy him his work environment. Not today though, I do not envy him today.

Yesterday noon, the telephone rang. It was Attila. "Want to take a run out to the park for supper?" he asked. I agreed immediately. He left work a few hours early and arrived home to prepare the fixings for sandwiches, which would be assembled at the park. Off we drove into the sunshine, in the heat of the day.

The journey was hot, very hot. Our car does not have air-conditioning. I wore tightly woven cotton clothing that covered every inch of me, because I sat in full sunlight for an hour or so. By the time we arrived at The Pinery, I felt baked.

We found a quiet, shady location, set up our chairs, prepared a few iced beverages, and sat back to enjoy an evening under the pines. Occasionally I would wander over to the water taps and let the cold ground water run over my legs and feet; returning to my chair to relax while the water slowly evaporated and kept me cool.

Just before the park closed, we made our way to the beach. Night was falling; the waves gently lapped the darkening sand. The sunset was over; the pastel colors left behind were beautifully pale reminders of the day's blaze. We were alone, but for the family of three hastily preparing to make their way back to their car.

As I stood in the warm water, the tension of the day's heat slowly eddied into the lapping waves, and away. I felt my corporeal existence very strongly just then. It was one of those occasions when, the realization of my eternal commitment to the planet rises from an unknown depth, overwhelms conscious thought, and then suddenly recedes leaving me breathless and in awe.