My Thoughts on Summer, Revisited

I have never been a fan of summer.

Growing up in upstate New York, summers were hot and sticky non-air conditioned months of uncomfortableness. I can still recall (all too well, thank you) that feeling of actually sticking to the toilet seat as I relieved myself from the 18 glasses of KoolAid Lemonade I chugged after a game of tag through the sprinkler. We had one window unit AC in the house that my parents put in their bedroom- leading to many nights "camping out" on sleeping bags on the floor next to their bed. Since the other 10 months of the year were cool, chilly, and snow-filled, a house with central air conditioning was unheard of. The closest pool was a solid 30 minute drive from our house, and the three of us would drive my mom crazy until she'd take us to swim. The smell of chlorine, sunscreen, and Chocolate Eclair ice cream pops still takes me back to the Hurley Rec, even to this day.

Then, in the 7th grade, we moved to Houston and summer as we knew it got flipped upside down. That hot, sticky misery we bid adieu in late August now followed us to Texas and hung around until THANKSGIVING. 90 degree days got you down? Well, how about you try on 110 degree days for size, and throw in 15% higher humidity while you're at it. Let's just say -for first time Houstonians- the end of August isn't prime relocation weather.

So what did I do upon high school graduation? I packed up my sweaters and scarves and headed up "north" to South Carolina. Dear Lord, what was I thinking? I can distinctively remember calling my mom as I left the Business Admin building on my walk back to the Bates House dorm (who's house!) and before I had even gotten halfway to my room the sweat was trickling down my arm, off my elbow, and into a nice drip trail on the sidewalk. Lovely. At least in Texas we lived in a new house with industrial-strength central air... the ghetto fab Bates seemed to have the original units from the 70s. If I had a dollar for every day the ac was out, I would have paid off that out-of-state tuition faster than you can say "collard greens".

Less than four years later, I once again packed up my gloves and golashes and head up "north" to Washington, DC. *insert deep belly-aching laughter here* Um, DC summers give Houston summers a run for their money! The only difference? In Houston you go from air conditioned house to air conditioned car to air conditioned school/store/office. In DC, we walk. We'd walk from our home to the (un-air conditioned) metro station. We'd walk from the metro to the office. We'd walk to go to restaurants, bars, shops, and business meetings. Nothing says "classy" like getting to your job interview and having to hose yourself down in the office sink before you can even catch your breath. Brutal. I'd take trekking in the windy sleet and snow over that ANY day. At least in the cold you can add more clothing to stay warm; I've realized you get quite a few awkward glances if you try to beat the heat by walking to work naked.

So where does that bring us now? Perfect Paradise, California. Um, seriously. On August 23rd, we bought our first fan. Yes, we were one week shy of September before we even felt the need for a little air circulation in our home. Two days later the "heat wave" was gone and the fan has now retired to the attic. Gorgeous, bone dry 80 degree temps during the day: check. Breezy, chilly 60 degree evenings: check. Early August date-night snuggle sessions on the couch under a down blanket: marry me.

For the first time in 26 years, I want to celebrate summer. I ride my bike to the gym for Tues/Thurs evening classes and have to remember a light jacket for the ride home. I pack my basket full of goodies from the Farmers Market and cruise down the road with the wind in my face and the scent of charcoal wafting through the evening fog. We spend every available moment at the beach, letting the sun kiss our skin while trying to keep the ocean breeze from losing our pages in our summer reads. The air conditioner in my car hasn't been tested in over a year- I hope it still works. Then again, when will I ever need to use it? On Wednesday evening, I diced and sauteed and boiled together an incredible cauldron of shrimp and corn chowder, which we enjoyed steaming hot with slices of toasted sourdough baguette. I cup my piping mug of coffee each morning, shivering in my robe as we wait for the sun to warm up the sleeping town.

There are very few things in this world that can achieve such a desirable level of perfection. For me, I'm not taking a single day for granted; surprising everyone, especially myself, when I hear my voice utter the words "I love summer"...

There is a very short list of places I would rather be.

If "Italy" was your favorite part of Eat.Pray.Love., you HAVE to read this book. Not only is she a fabulously entertaining writer, but each chapter has a recipe. Oh, not to mention the author is sweeter than blueberry pie and is allowing me to help test recipes for her next book. Be still, my heart.

Stopping by Daddy's office to help him break up the seemingly-endless 12 hour days he's been putting in.

Mat Kearney acoustic concert? Yes, please.

What's that? A hug? Sure, why not.

Cake pops! And yes, that is a styrofoam cut out of FRANCE that I may or may not have done completely by hand. Baller status, party of one, right this way.

Saying goodbye isn't hard to do when you're already making plans to go visit.

Kiel and Josh being mature, well-behaved adults.

"Dude, I'm lovin' your wife's balls..."

Oh summer, why do you have to end?