My electric bill last month was astronomical. My house is apparently not terribly energy efficient. And the heat index has been in the hundreds around here lately. My hair is all frizzy and disobedient and my kids flush bright red within minutes of going outside. Everyone is a little droopy. Except me. I love this. Love, love, love it. I want to soak up sunshine all day long (properly sun-screened of course). I don't even turn on the air conditioner until the evening. I kind want lay down in the patches of sun made by the windows like a cat. I carry a sweater everywhere I go because the shock from outside oven to inside cooler is a little too jarring for me. People around me are starting to yearn for fall. While I do love my boots and jeans and cardigans, I can't join them. Now, everything is green. The roses are blooming and the garden has completely exploded it's banks. There are cicadas in the maple and bees in the flowers. Everything smells like health and green and sun. All of that will go away after the fall. The reds and golds and cooler weather are delightful and I'm sure I'll wax poetic again come October. But. I will miss sand on the kitchen floor and towels drying on the deck. I will miss reading on the back porch in bare feet until the sun has gone to far down to see only to stay and be distracted by fireflies. I love how the boys smell of sunscreen and aloe and grass, even after their baths. Right now the roadside stands have fresh corn-on-the-cob for the barbecue and peaches, great big, juicy peaches. There are farmers markets and festivals and roller coasters, snow cones and sunflowers.
I am not ready to give up the sun just yet. It's all just too lovely.