I really wish I was someone who could relax into the Summer. What I wouldn’t give to be one of those people clearly born to be free and easy in the warmer months. They come alive as soon as the temperature rises, smile all the time and waft about in light fabrics, never complaining – only wishing for more heat, please. I am not one of these people. I don’t waft so much as flail about, red faced and crotchety, sweaty fringe and I against the world.
I am a child of the Autumn. Give me a cardigan and a cool breeze any day of the week and I’m deliriously happy. The sun has always been my nemesis and it’s not surprising. Gingers and the sun have long enjoyed a complex relationship. There may be fellow gingers who feel differently but I don’t know them. I would like to know their secrets though. The majority of us are practically vampiric, seeking shade as soon as the sun rises or we’ll burst into flames. I only have to glance out of a window at bright blue sky and I start to feel angsty.
Stepping out the door usually results in heat rash, sun burn or sun stroke – so I don’t really bother anymore. I’ll be indoors under the fan, enjoying the darkness thank you very much. I wish it were different. I wish I could be ethereal and sweat free more than anything but I know my limitations – and 34 degree heat is it.
There’s a certain level of shaming that happens when the weather turns nice. I get it, we have about two weeks of sun before it’s gone for another year, so why wouldn’t we make the most of it? But anyone not out and about tends to be told to get outside. Some of us are better left indoors or under a massive umbrella, doing Summer our way, believe me.