It’s hot. It’s so hot my kid and I are huddled in the dining room where our one, installed air conditioner is huffing and grunting like a sumo wrestler. To distract her, I’m telling her stories of how, when she was grape size, Papa and Mama were in this magical place called Bar Harbor, Maine. Where you must wear a sweater in July after 6 pm. And eat lobster at every meal. And watch sunsets like this. Without sweating. Oh, to do anything without sweating. So, we’re pretending we’re here, standing on the pier in dockers and boat shoes with sweaters tied around our necks. You’re welcome to join us.