Don't you just love this time of year? The warmth of the summer sun makes you forget the cool winter days that have left us until next January or February.
OK, that's it. I cannot, with all good intentions, write about how I love the heat. From June until the first part of October, I try my best to stay in the house or at least inside somewhere that has air conditioning. Please don't invite me to the lake for the day and, for heaven's sake, don't try to get me to go camping.
How can one human possibly spend the day, much less a week, in hotter than 100 degree weather, with bugs crawling all over you, all over your food, all over you clothes. Ew! It gives me the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.
Apparently, I am definitely in the minority here. Even my family enjoys camping out. But they know better than to invite me.
Give me a cool 75-degree living room with my recliner, my dog, my ice cream and a good mystery novel. Now, that's what I call a good time. A comfortable time. A time when, even though the shingles on my roof might be melting, I couldn't care less because I'm not on that roof. The sun might be burning the backyard. Doesn't bother me. My feet are planted on plush carpet and not gooey pine tar.
There was a time, when Tommy raced motorcycles, that the three of us spent every weekend camping out.- Not your normal, sleep-on-the-ground, sweat-until-heat-stroke-sets-in camping out, mind you; we purchased a motor home -" with air conditioning and an indoor toilet and shower. It was a little sacrifice on my part but, as long as I knew there was air conditioning to run to, I was OK. Now that I'm older, I don't even think I would enjoy that any more.
We own a beach villa with friends and, yes, I love going there five times a year. However, I don't lay out in the sun. I walk on the beach and go directly to the nearest Tiki Bar or restaurant after 30 minutes. It's a fun place, a great place for family. In fact, we have it in a couple of weeks and the grandkids are both coming, with friends.
I was fine with this until discovering I would have four teens by myself. Tommy can't get off work until the end of the week and his fianc, Monique, wants to wait until he comes down. I'm planning on locking myself in my bedroom for four or five days.
Guess I owe you all an apology. I truly started this column with the intention of wishing you a fun summer with your family, frolicking at the lake or camping out with the bears. I'm sure you will all do that anyway. I'm discovering that, the older I get, the more I am basically ignored.
(Pat Fickle is a Martinez resident.)
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