Rome was hot. It wasn't just hot - it was hotter-than-the-hubs-of-hell hot. Of course, there was no air conditioning and no ice (both energy suckers by European standards - there are also no clothes dryers in Italy, which is fine because in that heat, things are dry within hours).
I'm back from Rome now and, if the Seattle weather itself is not enough of a shock to me, my sister Kelly is running her air conditioner. So, I'm sitting here typing in my nightgown, with the addition of thick socks and my brother-in-law's flannel shirt.
Kelly comes back into the house last night around 10:00, and asks, "Is it really hot in here?" I said - very clearly - "No, you are just crazy." Apparently she didn't believe me because she cranked the air-conditioner extra low.
I appreciate her letting me stay here while my apartment is flea-bombed (thanks Jamie for handling that), but I'll be happy to sleep in my own bed tonight and to be able to regulate the temperature inside with some relationship to the reality of what is happening outside.