It came in the mail yesterday. The L.L. Bean catalog landed with a thud on my kitchen counter, heralding ‘coziest women’s clothes & more.’ Inside were flannel robes, Ultrasoft Sweats, down comforters, all the trappings for cold, wet, windswept weather. In August, goddam it.
Why do retailers insist on raining on our parade? It’s summer, for crying out loud, a warm, blissful season. A fleeting interlude. And they’re giving it the bum’s rush. Are they crazy? Don’t they know what horrors lie ahead? I do and I refuse to think about it. But department stores and shops and online retailers won’t let us forget. Oh, no.
Any minute now Halloween decorations will start popping up. Then, in a few weeks, Christmas catalogs will start trickling in, featuring piney, snow-shrouded woodlands. The mere thought sends a shiver through me and dread, lots and lots of dread.
What is the flipping rush? For the first time in months, laundry bags aren’t bulging with waffle-knit thermals and hoodies and heavy wool socks, long johns. Shorts and t-shirts are a low maintenance, lightweight joy. Sweet relief from the layers upon layers upon binding layers normally needed. Although with air conditioning blasting in every public building, you should keep a coat on hand. The indoor climate is a regular Alberta Clipper.
Couldn’t we enjoy summer for the short time it’s here? Put wint–, put wi–, put raw, miserable weather on the back burner? It’ll be here soon enough, too soon, really. When it arrives, that’s the time to talk about snuggly and cozy and toasty, but until then shut the hell up. No one wants to be reminded. Oh, wait, do they?
Let’s see a show of hands. Who’s ready to put up the storm windows? Gas up the snowblower? Scrape the windshield? Put bare feet on a cold floor? Anyone? Okay, a few nut jobs, but tough noogies, majority rules. Summer’s welcome to stay as long as it likes — forever, even.