For me, summer starts at the beginning, when my birthday happens. Maybe not when I was a girl, but after we moved East, where in DC May is the very definition of the word glorious and then ::whammo:: it's swampy and jungle-hot miserable from Flag Day until The Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Man.
But this year, owing to filial shenanigans, the weekend of my birthday was muted, to say the least. (Prick.) After that, I was in the hole to get us to Baltimore and/or on a canoeing expedition by the end of June during which time it was so warm with temps and humidities into 90F/90%. It was fantastic, you guys! The rapaciousness of late-July or August's temperatures with so much daylight all day long.
The weather has been incredible.
Anyhow, the kids were gone all day every day -- one at work, the other at school -- and I found that (apart from lunchmaking & vacuuming) I really did not know what to do with myself. It was pretty relaxing, like with about five times the vowel sounds if you say it aloud. At the end of July, something clicked: something about a trip to the berry patch on a 90-degree day which turned thunderstorm + finally some freaking acceptable corn, and every day since has been heavenly + pure summer, at once.
I mean, all the days before were great, too (this weather: incredible, outstanding!), but August is just too much. We thought, when we were planning for St Maarten, that we could take a high-speed catamaran to St Barths for one day, but while trying to work out Are we an island-hopping people? I realized the answer was hell, no pq français à temps complet & the being reliant upon me to do the talking is cute when it's San Juan with Elle & Sal + 25 years of wreaking havoc on any landscape, but it would be the actual kiss of death in my marital dynamic, even for just one day. Especially for one day! The pressure! When would we get to make our sex tape?!? Ahahaha!
More on that + the kids in Orlando, later. Fille + Elle girls' only = next big travel! Soon! xoxox