Skipping a Season

This is my third summer in Oregon and each gets worse than the last. There hasn’t really been a summer this year. Two days in the 90s and those not consecutive. Today is in the 50s and raining. Some mornings lately have been in the 40s. I refuse to turn on the furnace in July, but I am still sleeping in flannel pajamas under two wool blankets. Cold damp mornings do not lend themselves to sitting on the porch with my second cup of coffee. Walking with the dogs on Sunday I thought “what a perfect fall afternoon.” Except it’s JULY! C’mon.

I do pine for those warm summer days in Missouri, although during my week long trip back there earlier this month, they were having unseasonably cool and wet weather. Friends accused me of bringing Oregon along with me.

Most people, especially people who live in Portland, find me peculiar because I like HOT sunny weather. It’s a strange concept here, but there are people elsewhere in the United States who do not worship rain and do not want to wear fleece all year round. Unfortunately, my kids chose Portland so I am here to be close to them and enjoy my two adorable grandchildren. And that does, in the end, make it worthwhile.

I do, however, reserve the right to bitch about the weather. It sucks!