Swan Song for Summer

Dear Summer,

I just wanted to say a formal farewell to you as you disappeared Tuesday night without even whispering, "Adieu." As someone who hates goodbyes, I understand your hasty departure, but after our intimate relationship this summer I really expected more - a final barbecue, a last swim, one more hot night looking at the stars. But instead I went to bed humid and woke up with a chill to realize that the leaves were already changing, the air was suddenly crisp and the world had been repainted in hues of autumn where vivid greens had just been.

Crying would seem natural but surprisingly I'm not sad. With the same anticipation that I brought out my sandals on the first bearably warm day in April I put on my ballet flats yesterday. I realized that I'm actually sick of skirts and shorts and longing to cover my finally tan legs in pants. I'm excited to replace my "melon" and "freesia" home fragrance oils with scents like "pumpkin nectarine" and "golden apple." I want to make soups not salads. And I almost want to decorate for fall, though I refuse to do anything Halloween-specific. I just hate the black-orange color combo. And while I'm happy to see purple and green have been added to the mix, I'd much prefer taupe and turquoise.

So I suppose it was time to say goodbye, Summer. I guess our love affair had begun to wane. Hot was no longer invigorating. Bright was no longer charming. Wet just started to feel clammy. Things got stale.

But that doesn't mean we're over. Shortly after Christmas, if not sooner, I'll be begging for you to come back. I'll wet my pillow with tears at night remembering all our good times from this year and years past. I'll dream of you. I'll wish for you. I'll change my tune.

You are my season, Summer. Never forget that. But I'm not ready to settle down. I need a little Fall and Spring in my life to keep things exciting, but I love you the most. Always have, always will.

Oh, and I hate Winter. Like, I give myself diarrhea thinking about how soon that pointless season will steal Fall away. Any chance you could tell him to back off? He's so pushy.

Until next year!
Mrs. Dub

Seasonal Oppresion

QUESTION:

If someone told you had to choose between the following or you'd get no dessert - and I know of no greater threat - what would you pick:


A very cold winter

or

A very hot summer?


Because I used to be all about the latter until I met HUMIDITY. And now I'm thinking winter is looking better every day. Then again, it's still a humid cold.

Stupid moisture!

An open letter

Dear Snow,

Hello again. I see you made yourself comfortable outside while I was sleeping last night. I do appreciate that you resisted the temptation to bombard us with oodles of snow, as predicted, and settled for a light dusting instead. I also want to thank you for giving us many weeks of unseasonably warm weather.

But now you are here and you’ll probably be sticking around until late May. So I suppose I should start making my peace with you. I should accept that I live in a place notorious for brutal winters; that my Arizona blood better thicken up, or at least bundle up.

Don’t get me wrong, Snow. I still have bitter feelings toward you. I would rather be poolside. I would rather be on a beach. I would rather be wearing open-toed wedges and a breezy skirt. I would rather be wiping the perspiration off my forehead than covering it with a wool cap.

You cause accidents. You cause power outages. You cause traffic delays and outfit anxiety. You ruin outdoor events. You make life complicated, not to mention cold.

But when I first woke up and saw your soft blanket beyond my back door, I thought, “You’re beautiful.”

Sincerely,
Mrs. Dub