It’s not a secret that I hate summer. I just do. There are so many things to dislike about it and so few to like.
I’ll start out with things to like about summer.
1. It stays light longer. But really who cares? I’m not 10 so I’m not going to be outside playing until the streetlights come on any time soon. I’m also a night owl. I’d rather stay up until 4:00 a.m. and sleep until noon so if it’s lighter longer it’s irrelevant to me. I don’t do too many outdoor activities these days, but even when I was young and fit, I moved workouts indoors once the humidity rose.
2. There are flowers, and the grass is green. I’ll admit that the flowers are nice to look at, but they also need to be weeded. I’m allergic to many things, nightshade included. You guessed it. I have that weed in my yard. To kill it, the plants die, too. My neighbor wiped out several of my plants this year spraying poison in my yard. If I touch the nightshade I get a poison ivy like reaction with red blisters that last and itch for months. As for the grass, with this year so unbearably hot and dry, I haven’t had to cut it. I’m not complaining. I like brown.
3. There are birds and critters out. This is the ONLY thing I TRULY like about summer.
The things to dislike about summer are just mind-boggling.
1. I hate the humidity. There’s nothing worse than sweating. Today it’s 70 degrees with 80 percent humidity. You move around, and everything you’re wearing is wet. I work in an office. Some days the air conditioning works better than others. I have two fans running. There’s only so much clothing you can take off in public. Also my flat-ironed smooth hair looks like a ratty frizz ball ten minutes after I do it.
2. I hate the heat. Until recently it had been in the mid-nineties for over a month. I only went out to walk to and from my car.
3. I hate the sun. I don’t tan. I burn. And with some of the medications I take, they recommend I stay out of it.
4. I hate bugs. There are very few “good” bugs. I hate anything that buzzes, flies, crawls or stings. I watched hubby get stung twice by a hornet this week as he got out of his truck to walk to meet me in my car. The hornet was still alive and wriggling on the ground. Let’s just say my car made an excellent bee crusher.
5. I hate people’s obsessions with their yards. See my comment about my neighbor and his spraying poison above. I prefer the natural look and the birds and the squirrels. The nutbag next door runs outside and claps his hands when a robin lands on his grass. I’m certain he hates me and my weeds and my feeding the birds and squirrels. I don’t care.
6. I hate the crazy people summer brings outside. Everyone wants to be outside in their yards. I don’t mind the man two houses down who grills out every day. I don’t mind the new neighbors next door who are polite and quiet so far. I have a harder time with the loud, crazy grandmother across the street who yells at the grandkids and her dogs ALL day long. We can’t open windows because her screeching and her dogs barking are all we can hear. She also parades around her yard in either her pajamas or a house dress/muumuu arrangement. My sons have seen her standing at the window wearing just her underwear. Yikes. Put some pants on, lady.
7. Summer also brings out the pets. We’ve also had issues with wandering dogs. The granny across the street and others are guilty of not abiding by the leash law. I don’t mind dogs. I just don’t want to find one dead in the road. We also have issues with roaming cats, too. They harass the critters at my feeder, and they spray urine in my yard. I’m guessing they can smell my two only indoor cats. I have chased the wanderers away many times.
I could go on and on about the things I hate about summer. There’s more, but I think you get my gist. I have been a lifelong hater, and I wondered if there was a reason other than I grew up in a house without air conditioning.
I found an article online that hypothesized that I prefer cold weather because I have “body issues”. It suggested that because summer forces me to expose more skin I must have problems with my shape. I could stand to lose a few pounds, but I can’t hate my body all that much. I’ve decorated it with body art, I wear skin tight stretchy capris or leggings and flashy rock band t-shirts. I’m not exactly trying to hide myself, my skin or my shape. Try again, genius.
I then went looking for something to back up my theory that because I was born in February (a cold month here) that makes me prefer the cold. I managed to find an article that suggested people born in winter months might live longer. We’re better able to adapt to the stress of the cold. Those born in warmer months are more likely to die of cold-induced heart attacks. Interesting. I will keep my snarky comment to myself on that theory.
The good thing about any weather extremes is that they are temporary, and things will change. Unless, of course, you believe the global warming alarmists. They think the heat is here to stay. If that’s the case, I’m moving to Antarctica.
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