Top 10 (this posting does not reflect the minute delights of anything)

reasons why I loathe the summer season.  If you adore these unending months of heat, please skip this post because it will only irritate you or worse, compel you to write to me why this season ought to be considered delightful. Now, I realize that I am lucky enough to live in a relatively cool climate, but this past weekend our thermometers crept upwards and this list was created.  (These are not necessarily in order of annoyance or importance.)

1.  Lawn mowers, leaf blowers, hedge trimmers and the fact that owners of these shrill tools seem to feel compelled to use them at 6 a.m.  For those of us dropping off to sleep at 3 a.m., this is simply cruel.  I actually saw a man leaf-blowing his lawn yesterday.  It's JUNE.  There are no leaves on the lawn.  Perhaps he was fluffing the grass?  Buy a goat; they're quiet and create delightful cheeses.

2.  Bee stings, mosquito welts, bird droppings--all unnecessary and not part of winter.    And while we're talking about dining al fresco, let's not forget hayfever and the dripping nose and itching and swollen eyes.

3.  Testosterone being proved through stereo decibels.  We get it; you're a man.  A man with cool taste in bad music.

4.  Smokers.  For all of the touting of Seattle being a healthy town, there seems to be an inordinate amount of smokers per capita.  And when stuck in the car ferry line?   There's nowhere to escape the toxins. These are my only pair of lungs and I object to you poisoning them.

5.  Overexposure.  I know very few of us are models, but for the love of God, would you cover up?  No one wants to see that much flesh in public.  Gauzy material is your friend.  Use it. 

6.  No rest for the wicked--with the sky getting dark at 10 p.m. and lighting back up at 4 a.m., there is very little down time.  And yes, I've got black-out curtains, but Bogart has decided that he ought to pull them down between 4-5 a.m. each sunny day.  I swear that he has SAD and is thrilled when the sun shines on his favorite patch of carpeting.

7.  The ubiquitous bbq--really?  How do you spell carcinogen?  And when did charred food become chic and fun?  And please refer to #2 in this listing.

8.  No pockets in summer clothing.  I abhor walking through the city, schlepping a purse, I feel much safer having my money and id tucked inside a pocket, next to my body.

9.  No more summer break--say what you will about the teaching profession, it's lovely to have June-August to lie fallow.  Very cranky that I'm supposed to be productive all summer long.  I want to go back to childhood when summer meant wading in the ocean or a creek, reading in a tree, bike riding in the evening and eating unending popsicles.

10. And speaking of walking, I've yet to find a pair of shoes which I can wear without socks without coming home with bloody blisters.  And if one is not walking, one is facing an absolute oven of a car where one's lotion has oozed all over, and the pens have melted ink and the hand sanitizer has blown up.  Lovely. 

We haven't even touched on hair frizzing or going limp, or make-up melting off, or sweating profusely and ruining clothes or skin cancer or headaches from squinting at the sun, or pets shedding and/or hoiking up hair balls in the middle of the night.  Currently, the only redeeming thing I see about summer is fresh tomatoes and peaches.  And frankly, those could be grown in a greenhouse.  The largest carrots I've ever seen were ones grown in Alaska.

I cannot be the only one who rejoices when 22 June hits and we're headed towards the good bits of the year.  The times where we can wear sweaters and other cosy clothing and eat yummy fattening foods and not feel guilty for being slothful by the fire instead of being exhorted to be up/doing/hiking/kayaking/scaling mountains.  If I were wealthy, I'd be the opposite of those sun birds who move between their two homes following spring/summer.  I'd move to find eternal autumn.

But that's me.