Clearly I am flunking summer. While in the winter months I never wear Ugg boots, all summer I don’t wear flip flops. In fact I have never worn flip flops and I am not about to start now at my advanced age.
After a terrible sunburn during my honeymoon in Puerto Rico many moons ago, I learned I am no longer a sun worshipper. You won’t find me under a shade tree or a beach umbrella anytime soon. Cape Cod, Capri and the Cape of Good Hope are no longer, regrettably,on my wish list.
On the fourth of July I couldn’t muster the strength to go to a friend's house in Milford to watch fireworks. My sadness over two different friends'funerals made watching fireworks a colorless occasion. Maybe next year.
As for barbecues, I have not yet been invited to a cookout No hotdogs, hamburgers or ribs on my paper plate. Hold the sauerkraut.
If I were to belly up to the tiki bar, there would be no margaritas or daiquiris in sight, with or without tiny umbrellas or red cherries.
Don’t bring me a beach ball, a frisbee or a pail and shovel. I don’t know anyone with a sail boat, a pontoon or even a canoe. Forget the sand castle contests and wet t-shirts are definitely a no-no.
All in all, I am keeping the cap on my suntan lotion until I reach the safety of Labor Day. Hold on to your revealing bathing suits even under wraps until I lose at least 20 pounds. For now just bring me some sweet corn on the cob with salt and lots of butter and chill the seedless watermelon. They still spell summer to me.
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