Living in New England has its challenges. It’s perfectly normal for us to have a snow squall warning on Monday and see the temperatures peak at eighty-eight degrees on Tuesday, which is exactly what happened this week.
Seriously, I saw people wearing snow suits and scarves at the grocery store Monday afternoon. I wasn’t going to judge—I was wearing corduroys and boots, after all. But Tuesday morning, I checked to see if my garden had died from the previous night’s frost, and got smacked in the face by a wall of pollen and heat. It seems we’ve skipped spring and moved right to the dog days of summer here on the East Coast.
The changing weather is not without its challenges. I went out for ice cream Wednesday afternoon, sat down at a picnic bench, and immediately attracted six hornets, two bees, and forty-nine ticks. I’d started the day looking like a professional: neat blouse, dress pants, hair brushed. (Yeah, that is about as professional as I get. Why do you ask?) Throughout the day, as the humidity climbed, I’d shed my blouse for my white-trashy sleeveless undershirt, rolled my pants above my knee, and pulled my once-curly-now-fuzzy hair up and secured it with staples. (It was hot. You do what you have to.)
My friend Melissa showed up for ice cream. “You’ve wilted,” she said.
I took in her flip-flops, T-shirt, and shredded napkin she kept using to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. “Right back atcha.”
We slurped our ice cream cones and chatted, all the while ignoring the tent caterpillars that rained down upon us from the branches of the tree we sat beneath. Occasionally we’d pause to pick off the ticks. It was nice to see my friend, but next time, I’m suggesting an indoor venue. With air conditioning.
When I got home, I started packing up my winter clothes. Thick sweaters, more cords, my wool hat . . . all went into totes to be stored out of sight until October. Sure, I was making the switch to my summer wardrobe a little early this year, but seriously, I couldn’t keep stapling my hair up every day. I needed more sensible options.
Thursday I went out in my light, girly sundress and felt so much better. Until I got to the office. They’d cranked the air conditioner to maintain an even forty-five degrees. I had to staple reams of paper to my arms just to keep warm.
New England: love it or leave it. That’s why I’m looking into North Carolina real estate.
Seriously, I saw people wearing snow suits and scarves at the grocery store Monday afternoon. I wasn’t going to judge—I was wearing corduroys and boots, after all. But Tuesday morning, I checked to see if my garden had died from the previous night’s frost, and got smacked in the face by a wall of pollen and heat. It seems we’ve skipped spring and moved right to the dog days of summer here on the East Coast.
The changing weather is not without its challenges. I went out for ice cream Wednesday afternoon, sat down at a picnic bench, and immediately attracted six hornets, two bees, and forty-nine ticks. I’d started the day looking like a professional: neat blouse, dress pants, hair brushed. (Yeah, that is about as professional as I get. Why do you ask?) Throughout the day, as the humidity climbed, I’d shed my blouse for my white-trashy sleeveless undershirt, rolled my pants above my knee, and pulled my once-curly-now-fuzzy hair up and secured it with staples. (It was hot. You do what you have to.)
My friend Melissa showed up for ice cream. “You’ve wilted,” she said.
I took in her flip-flops, T-shirt, and shredded napkin she kept using to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. “Right back atcha.”
We slurped our ice cream cones and chatted, all the while ignoring the tent caterpillars that rained down upon us from the branches of the tree we sat beneath. Occasionally we’d pause to pick off the ticks. It was nice to see my friend, but next time, I’m suggesting an indoor venue. With air conditioning.
When I got home, I started packing up my winter clothes. Thick sweaters, more cords, my wool hat . . . all went into totes to be stored out of sight until October. Sure, I was making the switch to my summer wardrobe a little early this year, but seriously, I couldn’t keep stapling my hair up every day. I needed more sensible options.
Thursday I went out in my light, girly sundress and felt so much better. Until I got to the office. They’d cranked the air conditioner to maintain an even forty-five degrees. I had to staple reams of paper to my arms just to keep warm.
New England: love it or leave it. That’s why I’m looking into North Carolina real estate.
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