
Then summer hit, and I began taking advantage of another kind of air circulation method. You know the one. The one that creates a utilities bill almost high enough to make sweating in your home seem not so bad. Almost.
I’m a cool weather kind of girl. I don’t know how this came to be, as I was born and raised in Mississippi, spent a thankfully brief sojourn in Alabama, and finally ended up in the Midwest, which is not cooler than the South, as some might have you believe. It’s just that here the 95-degree plus 95% humidity days only last, oh, four to six weeks, whereas in the deep South those kind of lovely days stretch on for months. Endless months.
When I first moved to Missouri, I thought I would escape that kind of summer weather. No. At least we usually get some snow in the winter. It’s a small consolation.
What can we do to make the most of our air conditioning, survive the heat and humidity, and live through summer as sustainably as possible? That’s what I’ll be examining this week, along with all those wonderful, natural perks of the season: think fresh, home-grown tomatoes, long summer nights, blackberries, outdoor concerts, ice cream, swimming, hammock swinging, bare feet, birthday parties, and maybe even a vacation.
Farmer’s markets, one of my great loves, explode in summer with all things bright and edible. The dress code for everything relaxes; keep a couple of sun dresses and a cute pair of sandals in your closet and you can’t go wrong. People talk more in summer; they pause on the sidewalks to wipe of sweat and complain about the heat. They congregate in public air-conditioned places like the mall, wander around with smoothies and listlessly gaze in store windows. No one’s there to shop, just to be out of the house and out of the heat. Sit down and strike up a conversation. People are friendlier in the summer. They give things away, like advice on restaurants, know-how on healing up that sunburn, bags of tomatoes.
I guess, despite the stickiness and sweat, summer isn’t that bad.
Image Credit: Yogi.

