I am not a hot-weather kind of girl. I'm at my best ensconced in a sweater and swaddled in blankets while watching Josh zoom down the slopes on his snowboard. But this is the first summer of my career as a teacher and I've quickly come to appreciate the quietness and simplicity of my summery days. I've got tons of crafts and recipes to try and I honestly cannot wait! Here it is...my ode to Southern Summers:
Southern Summers are...lightning bugs in the dusky sunset. Pear tree blossoms, peach tree blossoms, any old blossoms. The smell of bright blue hydrangeas and fragile, white gardenias. Lemonade. Mosquitoes. The scent of cheap cigars (which you light to ward off those blasted mosquitoes!). Lawn chairs, badminton, and sweet tea from an ice cold Mason Jar. Seersucker and deck shoes. Flirty dresses and patterned bow ties. Manners and cold fried chicken (hint, hint, Aunt Daphne). Watermelon, fresh vegetables straight from the garden, and smearing yourself down with aloe vera after staying in the sun for too long. Keeping your aloe vera in the refrigerator because you know without a shadow of a doubt that you're going to get sunburned. Canning okra and creaming corn with your grandmother. Humidity so thick you'd swear you can cut it with a knife. Cantaloupe so ripe it makes you want to cry. Eating blueberries until your teeth are stained blue. Sultry heat that makes you (almost) want to move up North. Southern summers are quintessential and consistent. There's something so terrific about tradition (cue the Fiddler on the Roof number).