June 18, 2007 - 7:19 AM.

No summer blues for me!

I used to long for summer so much, in my grey Northern California home, that I thought summer was my favorite season.

As I shivered in the 5pm fog of July, unable to cover up because I had let myself sunburn during our 4 hours of shine, I would curse the ocean that blanketed us in mist all summer long only to let up in September, when the days grew quickly short.

But I am older now, and over that. Gone are the days when I would firmly turn off the pilot light on April 30th. Hell, we had the heat on half the night last night, and it isn't bothering me a bit.

For one thing, my feet just have never outgrown their habit of drying out and cracking. And now that I live in my owned home with super-cheap carpet everywhere, my heels are constantly sucked dry if I am forced to go without socks - say, on hot days.

Also, I have a toddler now. And little ventilation in my house, unless the doors are open, facilitating escape. (Hence the ugly fortress-like fence.) Even with the doors open, there is v. little breeze, so we need fans in the heat. Yeah great, fans that therefore require constant monitoring because they look like great places to stick your fingers. Oh and plus, the poor child is deathly afraid of bugs right now so having the windows open, while only minimally adding to the cool, maximizes opportunity for terror. (Although his grandmother, in an attempt to help him feel some control over his unpredictable world, has taught him to fling/wave his arm and say, "Scat bug!" and "He wen' away to hith BUG HOME," which is heart-clutchingly cute, so there is a little payoff.)

So yes, I am over summer, for a while. This grey drizzle suits me just fine.

The child has temporarily changed his pronunciation of the short A in words like hands and pants. Where for a long time they were that sort of flat, uninflected cute A that littles have, he has suddenly become an Old Cowhand from the Rio Grande and is referring to "hay-unds" and "pay-unts" in a drawn-out drawl! I quiz him pointlessly all day long, in an effort to hear it again. "What is Mommy cooking in?" "Pay-unth." "What did the corn and beans come out of?" "Cay-unth." "Do you want to sit, or stand?" "Stay-und." After a while he tires of this and commands me "No mommy say!" but he does humor me for a while.

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