Yankee Blood

Buh. As far as I'm concerned, summer is here. I know it's not officially here for another few weeks, but who cares? It was 90 degrees at 9:30am this morning as I was heading out to get groceries, and after only 4 trips to and from the car unloading, I was sweating. Many of my plants are starting to wilt and die, the pavement is too hot to walk on with bare feet, and our air conditioners run almost non-stop 'round the clock. So the calendar says it's still spring? I say otherwise.

Let me pause and acknowledge that it is this warm climate that lets me plant my garden in February and start harvesting in March, and it's never seemed to bother me this much until these recent years. However, when one has to hibernate through the summer as someone would expect to live through blizzardy winters, it wears on you. Seriously- we hole up and live indoors through the season that many northerners spend the year waiting for. Maybe... maybe this growing intolerance and dislike of the sweltering summer months can be blamed on my Yankee blood. I have to admit, I find myself fantasizing about living up north where so many of my extended family resides. Needing sweaters at night in July and describing the breezes of August as "cool." Not needing or having air conditioner(s). Planting one tomato plant, one squash plant, and one pepper plant, and having so many veggies you have to push them off on to neighbors. Not having to shave your outdoor pets! Honestly. Maybe some day I'll be able to give it a try. For now, though, I'll try to look on the bright side (as the greener grass one usually finds on the other side has started turning brown no matter where you look). There are a few good things that come with the season, such as...

Shorts that show off chubby toddler legs (which are quickly loosing their chubby)

 Remembering the actual size of a puppy who spends most of the time layered in 7 inches of fur

The first of many batches of homemade ice cream

Really big carrots

June usually kicks off my pining for October, and the slow forgetting of what 'crisp' air is. Though it's getting almost too hot to be outside for extended periods, we will continue to spend as much of that time as we can out doors until the grass is too crispy to walk on bare-footed, the birds are too hot to fly or sing while the sun is up, and the garden is all but dead. Ahem. Happy unofficial summer.