The First Weekend of Summer?

by - 2:46 PM

So, it was Memorial Day. The unofficial start of summer. The long weekend I look forward to, every year, as the kick-off to beach season. You've heard of bikini weather, yes? That time of year we spend all of the months that include an "r" in their names, preparing for. Memorial Day weekend is the deadline.

So when the forecast shows Memorial Day weekend barely breaking the 50's, I get a little cranky. I pack my swimsuit anyway. I stalk my weather app. I refuse to pack a jacket. Basically, I get stupid and act like I'm twelve -- like, if I throw down a tantrum hard enough, thing will magically start going my way.

Then I remember that I'm actually 24. I have 24 hot summers worth of experience. 24 freezing winters and 24 disappointing springs worth of experience. Enough to know that Mama Nature isn't a waitress. She doesn't take orders. She's like a regular mom, and what she cooks up is what you get. If you don't like it....too bad.

So boo-hoo. Girl didn't serve up an ice cream cone and boiling heat. She did, however, put together a feast of radiant sun and the a breeze that smelled like summer.

You kind of get what you get. And I'm not really suggesting anything new when I make the connection between what your mom makes for dinner, the weather we get over a long weekend, and life. You just get what you get.

You can whine and complain, a la' the route I usually take, at least initially. Or you can roll with it.

I was complaining pretty heavy on Wednesday night, just before Ryan and I headed up north. Very fortunately, I have a boyfriend who knows the appropriate time to stop the complain train. We were in the middle of Horrock's where he was pushing a cart full of vegetables and I was following lazily behind him, with a steady stream of complaints for everything from the weather to the dim lighting in the store. He, in the very casual way that is all his own, suddenly stopped the cart, turned around and calmly said, "shut up."   

"Yeah, you're right," I said. He has a weird ability to calm me down quickly and effectively. "At least there's no rain in the forecast."

I'm a whiner. Ryan's a roll-with-it-er. And he's got the cool sense to always get me on board.

Hey, the sun shined hard all weekend. It got into the 60's. Who am I to complain?
We rolled with it.

You get what you get. Eat it and like it, or don't and starve. Your choice.
(Did everyone's mom practice this kind of dinner time rules?)


Our friends joined us on Saturday afternoon for a killer sunset on the beach. The first beach sunset of 2013. It was cold, but it felt like the start of summer.

See what you get when you just roll with it?


In other news, my dog, Jack, met a dog smaller than him. He spent the entire weekend trying to figure out what that tiny thing was. I sometimes wish I could hear the monologue inside my dog's heads.

Is it a....rat? No, it's tail isn't long enough. Maybe a very small kitty? But that sound it's definitely not a meow. But it's not a bark either. Whatever it is, it's definitely not a dog like me.


Finally, it would be horribly remiss to ignore the meaning of the holiday weekend, all too quickly passed.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. A hundred times, thank you. To every man and woman who has sacrificed to protect and preserve our nation's freedoms. We know that you give up enormous things in your life to procure this way of life for many. You miss your baby's first steps. You miss your anniversary. You miss your father's last words. All of the things you miss, the sacrifices you make, the things you lose forever --none of those things are forgotten or taken for granted. Thank you.

And happy Memorial Day.

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