Summer

I have always been a winter girl. I love scarfs, coats, layering, and snuggles. Is there anything better than a cold winter's night where you get into bed underneath a huge fluffy comforter and cuddle with your sweetie? I submit that there is not! (Especially if you have a belly full of comfort food and hot chocolate). I love watching snow fall and I get particularly excited when there is enough on the ground to go sledding or have a snowball fight. I have wonderful memories of moon-light walks through the snow with J-dubs in college. On one super romantic night we walked all the way to the old football stadium and ended up dancing in the snow. Are you rolling your eyes and barfing a little? We are particularly cringe inducing at times. Let's move on...

In recent years I have learned to have an appreciation for summer. It's still not my favorite time of year, but we have come to an understanding. I like watching my garden grow and the smell of something delicious on the grill. I enjoy a trip to the lake and I happen to be a champion camper. I can make an impressive meal on a camp stove and our s'mores are always made with PB cups instead of plain chocolate. Try it. You're welcome.

The thing I hate about summer is that it often feels like summer is out to get me. Last summer, after an incredibly fun camping trip, we found out that Manda happens to be super allergic to poison ivy and subsequently breaks out into an additional rash when given medicine to treat it. I would rather stay home forever than experience that again. Meanwhile, anytime I step outside our door it becomes open season for mosquitos on Manda's skin. Ten minutes outside sans bug repellant and I look like I have the chicken pox. (The only upside for you is that if you are with me when I'm outside, you wont get bit. Ever.) My pale white skin needs layer upon layer of sunscreen in order to not be angry and cripsy. Let's also not forget that summer's uniform requires us all to squeeze into bathing suits, shorts, and tank tops, none of which are a curvy girl's friend. Am I right?

In conclusion:
Summer means so many layers of bug spray and sunscreen that every dirt particle in the wind sticks to me, I break out into gross rashes, I'm squeezed into something inappropriately tight, AND on top of that mental image I'm sweating. Try to sleep tonight with that image floating around in your brain.

Can you blame me for looking forward to the gentle hug of winter?