I'm boycotting summer.
There. I said it. And in case I wasn't clear about it I'll say it again: I'm not a summer kind of
girl. Other people come alive when the mercury rises. Me? I go into hibernation. The summer solstice
sends most people on this planet into ecstasies of delight but it starts my Countdown to Autumn.
Quite frankly, September can't come soon enough.
I like to think it's the Swedish part of my background at work but more likely it's simply that I'm
my father's daughter. I grew up in Queens (a borough of New York City) in the top floor apartment
of a two-family house with a flat tar roof that seemed to gather every degree of the sun's heat,
multiply it, then send it straight down into our apartment. These were the days before air
conditioning was a fact of everyday life for everyday people and we relied on open windows (what
a novel concept!), noisy fans and iced tea. Lots of iced tea. My father, however, had a few options
that my mother and I weren't willing to consider: the fire escape and the roof. When the
temperature really started to climb, so did my dad. Right out the window! In my old neighborhood
there was nothing at all unusual about the sight of family men dozing on their fire escapes or
sleeping under the stars on their own personal "tar beach."
For some girls, bird song was the sound of a summer morning. For me, it was the sound of my father
clambering down the ladder from the roof, clutching an inflatable beach raft.
So, like I said, I'm not a big fan of summer. And, since I'm admitting deviant weather behavior, I
might as well tell you that sunshine isn't high up on my list either. I'm a rainy day kind of gal.
Grey skies? Love 'em. Torrential downpours? Bring 'em on. Is there a more beautiful sound on earth
than the sound of rain beating against a window pane?
Not on my planet.
What's new this month:
- A new recipe for Pad Thai Chicken
- A new contest
- An excerpt from JUST LIKE HEAVEN, my March 2007 release
On sale now: