It's hot. It's really really hot. To escape the two hours between dinner and bath time that has been finding us arguing and cranky (after which falls the hour and a half of sweaty sleepless babies, which makes us even crankier) we have been packing picnics and taking the girls to nearby parks for dinner al fresco followed by walks through the neighborhood. Everybody cools off, enjoys the outdoors while the sun is more forgiving, and nobody fights. This strategy worked for first Thursday as well. After having our ham sandwiches and melon at Jamison Beach, where the kids enjoyed an evening splash, we walked home and stopped at the open galleries on the way to take a gander at what Portland is creating these days. The galleries have snacks and wine, the baby is contained in a stroller and Ruth is now old enough that we can tell her not to touch, and she doesn't. (OK, mostly) Ruth's edict on Portland's art scene: "These are nice decorations."
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