Thanks to Adam and SWard helping from afar with some computer action, Becca and I can now listen to the same This American Life podcast at the same time. It's just like back in our apartment when we would drink coffee and listen to NPR shows all day on the weekends she had off work. It's a whole new level of being in sync with her on this journey and we loved it.
It's sooo humid. Some people hate it when people say, " it's not the heat, it's the humidity." Others loathe when they hear people say, "It's ok because it's a dry heat." Like an angry comic they put on their whiny voice and then break down into angry pantomime of killing the complaining person with a baseball bat. These angry comic folks can eat one, buddy. A big one. These angry comic folks have not lived a full life if they think that 90 degrees is 90 degrees no matter if it's bone dry or crotch soakingly humid. Or they just take things way too literally, like Aspergers bordering on autistic literal. Afterall, 90 degrees... shut upp! Humidity is terrible and makes all the difference! And it's humid out here folks.
In other news, a loose rooster shared our grassy spot with us at lunch.
In other news, we chose not to walk to a lake to swim because the beach was Sandy and everything we own is soaked in sweat. Which means sand would have been everywhere too. EVERYWHERE! !
And finally, we camped at a designated campsite despite the presence of a sleeping person in jeans just laying in the grass. We gambled on the hope he wasn't a psycho killer, because he wasn't no long distance hiker with that get up. He was still asleep when we left in the morning, though he managed to get inside his sleeping bag.
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