A Seasonal Sip 6/5/2022

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

I spent a small span of time last weekend at a baseball field.  It was the closing ceremonies for the local youth baseball league and my daughter was ending her first ever T-ball season with a trophy and a field day.  So, there we all were a myriad of parents, siblings, grandparents and other miscellaneous fans of the tiniest version of America’s favorite pastime scattered around the fenced diamond.  We sat in folding cloth chairs. Some people had the very good sense to bring portable canopies and put them over their little seating arrangements.  While this all sounds like an endearing little moment of small-town Americana, and I must say it had its moments, there was one predominate discussion point that flitted throughout the crowd just like the occasional breeze.  Actually, come to think of it, this universal commentary is just as much a part of life in this area as sport. What everyone was a twitter about is something that I am sure I have touched on before. Like I said, in these parts we talk about it a good bit.  You may have guessed what had us all atwitter by now.  Yes, we were talking about the heat.  No, it isn’t even officially summer yet but in the South that is not a memo that the atmosphere ever reads.  And so, our first summertime discussions have begun and will continue for well beyond one seasonal stretch. So it is.

I must admit it, summertime is not my cup of tea. I like that my daughter is out of school.  I am certain I don’t like it nearly as much as she does since, she has, as we all do I suppose, clung very tightly to the stereotype of a kid thinking getting out of school is the very best part of school. No, I misspoke, she also enjoys snack time and recess. But I digress.  So, she is out and leisurely which gives me a bit more opportunity for leisure as well around my work schedule.  The only other thing I can think of that summer is good for is that high temperatures make water related recreation quite pleasant.  Enjoying oneself in a pool or lake or other body of water is a refreshing way to pass the time in the heat.  And that is about where my accolades for summer things end.  I don’t care for the heat. I loathe the humidity, as does anyone who has the misfortune of having to witness my hair during this season. I am certainly no fan of the electricity bills that come with the excessive laboring of my air conditioner.  My daughter has a birthday. That’s nice.  My husband has a birthday. That’s nice too. Though the fact that they are 4 days apart is not the most convenient thing. Nor is the fact that Father’s Day is usually immediately thereafter two said birthdays.  I suppose the celebrations are a bit of a mixed bag.  There are several cakes so that’s always lovely.  There are lots of gifts to buy and parties to plan so that’s less than lovely but worthwhile.  Like I said, a mixed, yet overall fulfilling bag.

I began by telling you about the baseball field and where you could truly tell summertime was creeping in.  Let me take you back there.  There was a very distinct summery aroma wafting about the spectators. It was an inherently familiar concoction mixing the heavy deliciousness of fried food and the medicinal coconut-esque fragrance of sunscreen.  The skin of the fans and the concession stand were filling all the outside air with the unmistakable scent of the season. Despite the heat, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile. The scent was filled with countless memories of summers past and even dreams of summers to come.  Then my fragrance induced smile turned into chuckles once I noticed the kids on the field attempting to find adults to use for shade.  But then we all know kids are fantastic for entertainment purposes.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention one aspect of summertime that I find downright outrageous. If you’re a regular reader, you have heard me rant at the spewing of pollen during the spring. Well, this time of year there is another form of reproductive activity that is flung upon us with a vengeance. I am referring to love bugs. If you are fortunate enough not to know what I am talking about, count your blessings.  These insects actually fly about whilst connected in the um,” process” of “love.”  Now I cannot fathom how this is an efficient or necessary way to procreate and I find it disgusting and ridiculous. They are absolutely everywhere running into things in their connected pairs.  They get all over everyone and everything and it’s just so uncalled for. It would be bad enough if it were just a swarm of bugs but no, they have to swarm whilst mating! I cannot rant enough about the ludicrosity of this.  And may I also say that I am even more angered at these insects by the fact that their obscene actions require me having to explain them to my daughter. Telling her they are lovebugs led her to ask if they were kissing. Well first of all, they certainly aren’t kissing because these things would never go to the effort of actual romance and kiss. Are you picking up on my disdain here? Second, I had to figure out some explanation that I can give an almost 6-year-old without being too graphic.  I think when asked if they were kissing, I just gave some vague answer that falls into the “sorta” category.  If these bugs could just keep their adult behaviors to themselves such awkward parenting moments wouldn’t even be necessary.

Summertime is working its way upon us these days.  It brings a few valuable cards to the table but for the most part it is a hand that I would rather not be dealt. I much prefer the less aggressive seasons like spring and autumn, but I suppose every day brings us closer to those. In the meantime, even though this time of year is not my proverbial cup of tea, I can take a sip from time to time if necessary.  If one adds some ice, and if we’re in the South, a generous amount of sugar, even a cup of tea that isn’t mine is not so bad. Perhaps throw a boat ride on the lake and the lack of school in the mix and you may have added some slices of fresh peaches into the glass. Maybe the season has its strong points. Just watch for lovebugs before you drink.