I hate hot weather so much, that when I see the vacation photos my friends post, I actually say, “Antigua? Uck!” “Barbados? Oh how dreadful!” “Bora Bora? You poor thing! You couldn’t pay me to go to Bora Bora!” Okay, I’m sure there’s a price at which I’d agree to go to Bora Bora, but no one’s offering.
We’ve got several friends who live in Hawaii. Most of them are from Hawaii, and all of them love living there. Of course, I’m like, “Oh that Banyan tree is absolutely majestic! There. In the hotness. Is it me or is that orchid sweating?”
In order to visit my mother, I gotta endure South Florida, usually in the summer, if you can fathom my misery. Honestly, if I didn’t want to see half the people I love most, I’d be happy never to cross the Mason-Dixon line again. Is it too much to ask that everyone move north?
Like I need one more stop at the top of Jellico? No, thanks.
Right now, it’s 24 and feels like 17, with a bit of snow on the ground, and that’s perfectly fine with me. It’s a toasty 67 in here, and that’s even better.
But *whispers* in the middle of the winter, there are things I miss about summer.
Fresh local produce. Yes, I miss food from our garden, Oh My Green Tomatoes! All Hail The Tender Carrots! but also, I miss not payin five-thousand dollars for a bowl of fruit originating in Chile. I love apples as much as the next girl, but I long for summer’s fruits. At a reasonable price.
What do you miss about summer? It’s the fruit, right? You don’t miss the heat, right?
This post is part of Just Jot It January, but was inspired by my mother, who had the nerve to talk to me about my plans for the garden this year, leaving me with a watering mouth.