Welcome to my foray into the blogging world. I don't promise to be your source for political and social commentary, but I will always endeavour to be entertaining, charming and witty (and by witty, you may also want to read that as sarcastic . . . I sometimes mix the two up).

You will see a mix of poems and/or song lyrics, my skewed little musings on life, the odd rant or two, and hopefully I can pass along some inspirational pieces – either from my own personal experiences or from those who inspire me.

I will try not to work Bruce Springsteen into everything I write, though it will be difficult as he does impact a large part of my waking world as well as a good portion of my dream world.

Enjoy. Be kind. Come back often and visit.

Wednesday, 29 April 2015

Don't hate me because I'm not a fan of summer

Haters are gonna hate . . . so hate away. But me, I'm looking forward to fall.

It's not that I hate summer – or spring for that matter – I just can't take the hot temperatures anymore.  I'm a lady of a certain age, so maybe this will pass, but for now, summer is my least favourite season and I fear its impending arrival with each drop of sweat.

I'm an excellent sweat-er. One might even say I'm a a sweat over-achiever. Ask my friend Rich Bullis, guitarist for local band Fish Head. No one can crank up a sweat on the dance floor like I can and Rich has gotten a kick out of spotting my shiny little face in the audience on numerous occasions.

When I workout, I know there's at least one staff member with a hand hovering over the emergency defibrillator device, worried I may collapse one day on their watch. Not to worry little gym person, I'm okay, just sweaty. To me sweat is a sign you're getting your money's worth out of your workout.

Frankly, I don't understand how people can get through a spin class without sweating. It's not normal. Where does all that energy go? Your body needs an outlet. They're probably the ones who are going to pass out one day.  I picture all these feverish little sweat drops inside their bodies desperately trying to find a pore or any orifice to slip through. Digging away like tiny wrongfully convicted Shawshank Redemption prisoners trying to escape from hell. "Let us out dammit! We're not supposed to be in here!"

So, yes, the heat does not agree with me and I also prefer a nice, cool house as my friends will attest. They always know to bring a sweater when they visit as I keep the thermostat set fairly low. I am pretty much impervious to cooler temps. In fact, when the batteries in my thermostat died this winter, it took a few days for me to notice the furnace was not kicking on. I mean, it was a little chilly but I couldn't see my breath or anything . . .

And it's not just the heat that creates problems for me. I also have issues with the sun. That's right people, the sun. I'm slightly visually disabled (a topic for a future post) and I'm bothered by bright lights. Since the clouds of winter have finally lifted over the past weeks, I now have to contend with the glaring sun in my windshield on my drive home. I'm probably the only person who curses the sun, but I do. I probably need to invest in a better pair of sunglasses but is it too much to ask for a little cloud cover once in a while? Come on!

But, I will persevere and spend the next four months in a perpetual state of perspiration. My time will come. And as the last vestiges of summer slip away and fade into the glorious iridescence of fall, I will welcome my season with open arms and dry pits.

No comments:

Post a Comment