I know summer isn’t officially over. As in the autumnal equinox has yet to arrive. But for me when the pools close that means it’s fall. Never mind that my air conditioner is still running nonstop. Am I the only yearning for the time when I don’t have to listen to the constant drone of the A.C.? I feel like it’s a grumpy troll rumbling “this is going to cost you.”
At the end of every season I always like to do what I call a retrospective. A look back at what I’ve learned or things that surprised me. Usually it’s just a mental list of good things that happened or things I need to carry over from my summer “to do” list to my fall.
But as I swam at the city pool the day before it closed for the season, I realized I had a plethora of random thoughts about the summer of 2022. Starting with this basic observation.
Seeing people actively, as in inviting and encouraging through the use of zero SPF tanning oil, the solar rays of the sun to fry their bodies is now akin to someone being the lone smoker in a public setting. You don’t really see hordes of people tanning anymore, (Except for teenage girls who think skin cancer is something that only happens to old people – you know, like 40-year-olds.)
What you do see is parents aggressively applying SPF 70 to every part of their kid’s body and then going to town with several different sunscreens on themselves and then throwing a hat on their head. When you actually see an adult “laying out” in public it’s almost shocking as in does this person need a competency hearing and/or a lecture on the dangers of the sun.
This leads to my next summer contemplation that we, as in the human race, are going to need more dermatologists. Depleting ozone layers are resulting in more people being exposed to higher levels of ultraviolet radiation. This means more incidents of skin cancer and this, of course, is freaking me out. Where’s my SPF 100 lotion?
And I don’t really need any more freak outs because I’m still in recovery from an article in my local newspaper that said summers in the Midwest will be reaching 125 degrees in the next 30 years. The article called it an “extreme heat belt.” I’m calling it hell on earth. Can you even imagine?
The increasing summer heat has been taking up way too much space in my brain. I’m a person who loves living in an area of the country that has four distinct seasons. After growing up in Texas and experiencing the two seasons of hot and hotter (with a surprise ice storm thrown in because nothing says “Happy New Year” like having no water or power) the wonder of four seasons in all their glory ups my mental health considerably.
But in the 12 years I lived in Kansas I’ve noticed a distinct shift. Summer has become a diva trying to hog the spotlight as long as possible. Stealing from spring and fall to extend its reign as the longest running season. Having lived in a region with an almost endless summer this makes me scared and sad. Not 125 degrees scared but still measuring a solid seven on my personal freak out chart.
So, summer if you’re listening – it’s time to take your bow for 2022. Fall is waiting in the wings which means you need to get off the stage because I got a fleece hoodie I want to wear and some leaf peeping to do. 🍁
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Speaking of peeping 👀 – okay, that sounds a little awkward so I’m changing that to peeking – as in you need to take a peek on my latest book EMPTY. Y’all it’s getting great reviews and I would be thrilled if you would give the book a lookie-loo. 😍It’s available in ebook, (Did you know you can download Kindle for your phone for free?) paperback or audiobook. Just click on the link here for a look or a listen 🎧. www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZKPGQZQ
Snarky in the Suburbs 