Summer in the South

I don't even need to say it, but everyone else is talking about it, so let me chime in: it's hot, y'all. Take-your-breath-away-and-melt-you-into-the-pavement hot. Friday is the official start of summer, and this is the South after all, so I don't expect any relief any time soon. Hey, at least we had that cool front come through last week--you know, the one where it was only 80 degrees instead of 90 plus?

I'm consoling myself with the fact that we have air-conditioning, thank the Lord for it. My grandparents house when I was growing up did not, and I vividly remember spending the night there with my cousins and laying on top of the sheets in our t-shirts and underwear, trying to sleep and forget about the heat that seemed like it was pressing down on us. My elementary and middle schools were not air-conditioned, and along with reading, writing, and arithmetic, I also learned to sit as closely as possible to the giant wall-mounted fan at the front of the classroom. One college summer, my employer-paid housing only had tiny window units that were no match for the South Carolina heat, and we resorted to putting our sheets in the freezer. We would pull those sheets out and frantically make up our beds, then lie down for what was at least five or ten minutes of blissful cool relaxation.

Yes, we do interesting things down here to try and escape the summertime temperatures. You've never really had the wind knocked out of you until you've spread the thin, crummy piece of plastic called a Slip 'N Slide on an incline in the yard covered in minimal grass and maximum red Georgia clay, sprayed it down with the hose, and thrown your entire body weight down onto it in an attempt to hurl yourself to the bottom. Whee. Hot fun in the summertime.

I'm not sure mine came with that "cushion of water."

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and we do get a bit desperate for any kind of relief from the summer heat. Running through sprinklers, fans of any and all varieties, and the least amount of clothing one can get away with while stilling being "decent" (as I told a neighbor earlier today emphatically, it's too hot for socks). We'll try Popsicles and ice cream and iced tea, heck, we will even drink water right out of the hose to try and cool down when it is hot as blue blazes out there. We are not afraid to spend our days in the shade or floating in inner tubes down a river for a respite.

I'm sure it's this hot every year, as Southern summers tend to be, and yet we seem to forget how it feels until we are in the throes of it once again. Suddenly, it's June and the weather (or escaping it somehow) dominates our thoughts and conversations. Maybe the temperature makes us all a little delirious, because I swear to you we say the same things about our summers every single year without fail. In fact, here are a few of my favorite tried-and-true, you-know-it's-summer-in-the-South sayings that I'm pretty sure will be on repeat until the season is over (courtesy of the wise folks at Southern Living):

I don't know about you, but I relate all too well to those, especially the wilting part. The weather this week so far will melt the curl right out of your hair, bless our hearts. All I can say is the heat may be on, but we've survived it before and we will do it again. I think it's best if we forget that the mosquitoes are the size of jumbo jets, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, and every day on Facebook you see a new picture of a snake someone has killed. Let's focus on the lightning bugs, tomato sandwiches, salting our watermelon, and the fact that for the next few months seersucker is the new black. Get out your flip flops, put your socks away, and make sure you clear the yard before you put down the ol' Slip 'N Slide. Otherwise, sticks and stones may break your summer lovin' bones, but the heat will die down by Christmas.