Dawn Watson | CNBNewsnet
GLOUCESTER CITY, NJ (August 20, 2018)--Of all the seasons of the year I dislike summer the most. It wasn’t always so—in my youth I lay on a blanket, tanning my lithe body smeared with baby oil, moving not a muscle unless it was to flip face-down and inhale the ants that were attracted to the lotion.
I wore sundresses, flaunting my almond-colored shoulders and legs, knowing I was the envy of my pale-skinned friends.
Fast-forward 40 years or so.
My arms are laden with Solar Lentigines (age spots caused by the sun) and my face looks like a roadmap of bad habits. I’m fat, crabby and self-conscious.
Since I am no longer lithe I perspire with the slightest exertion; anything above 76 degrees and I’m sitting in front of an air conditioner or on a bench at the mall, where climate control is second only to marketing ploys.
The only thing I appreciate about summer is that it’s good drying weather. Clothes flapping in the sunshine and a warm breeze are one of life’s small pleasures. Not many folks partake of the old-fashioned way of doing laundry but I find it a good conversation-starter. For example:
Passerby: What in the world are you doing?
Me: Hanging laundry.
Me: Go away.
Those of you that know me understand that I’m not a great conversationalist. I’m better with dogs.
My dogs don’t care much for summer, either. If I walk a block with them I have to carry them home, one under each arm. And we’re all going to be panting and gasping for breath.
But oh, glorious fall! Leaves are turning, the air is crisp, my dogs can actually make it a block and back, and I’ve traded in my pedal-pushers for the sweat pants I’ll be wearing for the next eight months!
I know there are benefits and drawbacks with each new season and I understand the attraction for beaches and cook-outs, I really do. If summer could be regulated somehow to a moderate 75 degrees I’d probably learn to like it. Until then, I’ll remain where it’s climate controlled unless I’m hanging the wash.
If you see me out there in the heat with clothespins in my mouth and a scowl on my face remember that I’m suffering.
And that I’m about to carry two old dogs around the block.