Sunday, April 26, 2009

Home Sweet (sticky) Home

I just got back from a Girl's Weekend deep in the woods of Pennsylvania. It was, as it always is, a restorative and empowering event for all of us. Every moment spent with this group of girlfriends is treasured as our get togethers don't happen at a frequency that any of us are satisfied with. Busy lives, demanding jobs, men, kids and dogs all take up the bulk of our time. These little escapes allow us to shut down the other demands and just "be". It's amazing really, we can all find our own socks and underwear, we don't demand money for video games or rides to the vet's office and if we want something to eat, we get up and get it. Novel concepts, no?

So after two and a half idyllic, warm, breezy days and two cool nights in the Pocono Mountains, I have returned to what feels like the depths of Long Island summer. No exaggeration here, kids in bathing suits running through the sprinkler, blazing heat, sticky humidity and sweat that never evaporates. I'm pretty sure that it's April but it feels like I've been time warped to July. As soon as I stepped out of the car in my driveway I felt summer's brutal assault. My husband informed me that the weather was unseasonably warm here at home over the past few days and my brush with crisp mountain weather has left me ill prepared for this sensory assault.

I have never been what you'd call an "outdoorsy" girl. With milk white skin, freckles and red hair, you can imagine that sun avoidance is not so much a preference as it is a necessity. This in combination with the fact that I absolutely hate the heat and the feeling of sweating, makes me a pretty unlikely candidate for the brutal Long Island summers. With heat and humidity also come bugs, like mosquitoes and bees, both of which seem unnaturally attracted to me. I don't know if it's my ghostly countenance or if my red hair looks like some kind of plant but if there are mosquitoes in the area, they are biting me, usually only me. When I walk into a garden party it's like someone rang the dinner bell. Platoons of angry midges elbow each other out of the way to get a spot at the buffet. While normal people sip their wine and make polite chit chat, I am usually engaged in spastic fits of scratching and swatting, often in the most inappropriate of places. How I haven't been stricken with West Nile is a mystery to me.

So I'm home and it's hot. But as much as I joke, I missed my kids, my husband and my crazy dog. I won't tell you that I missed the weather here, because that would be a lie. If the starting gun for summer has been fired, be prepared to hear from me a lot. I'm going to tunnel under the house and hold up there for a couple of months. What else will there be to do, but blog? Oh, and dig for earth worms and fight off ants and termites. Ack! Forget it! If you need me I'll be in my room with the A/C on. Don't even think about knocking until October.

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