Monday, June 06, 2005

I have lived in the South, with a small 20-month exception, all of my life. Yet each year, when summer rolls around in all its dog-day glory, I am still shocked and laid low by how awful the heat and humidity are. There's some storm front moving through the region today and tomorrow, pushing hot, wet air before it. Yesterday was so torpid that we barely moved, opting to lie around drinking shandys and mint juleps, and watching movies all day. Today is worse--hazy and just, well, gross.

Weather like this often reminds me of either summer camp or vacations because it seems like, growing up, this was the sort of weather I always had during either of those types of excursions. Various trips to Kansas, South Carolina, and New Jersey? Muggy. Band camp? Ditto. Day camp? Same. On days like these, in my head I am 11, bespectacled, rotund, sweaty, and eking my way through some gruesome exercise in puzzle-making, crafts, or family bonding.

When I have a family, if we aren't living somewhere with milder summer weather, then we are taking trips to cool mountain lakes, shady forests, and hikers beaches. And then when my kids get to days like these as adults, they will simply conjure memories of Mom saying "Everybody in the car. We? Are OUT OF HERE."


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