Some of us would bitch if you hanged us with a new rope. Seriously. I've lived most of my life in various permutations of a 'temperate zone' (okay, Greenland was more 'did you want frozen into stone or not frozen into stone? Kidding! It's all frozen into stone') and have come to appreciate the Four Seasons, whether Vivaldi was allowed to come out and play after dinner or not.
When you live in the northeastern United States (and not just here) you may as well buy all-weather coats because you'll use them. Some, more often some years than others, but it all works out. We've had winters, hard by our yardstick that folks in Maine would find laughable (but those in Georgia might see as terrifying). Paul Simon's admonition comes to mind but with my ADD, thankfully not for very long.
After enjoying (and I cannot stress the gerund enough) this past winter's mildness (and hoping for more in the coming years), I am ready for whatever Whomever decides we are having for summer weather. Notice that capitalization thing I did back there? Mom raised crazy children, not stupid ones. I'm thinking in case there is a Deity, no need to put the boot in every time, especially as S/He could do my Greenland joke only with fire and Hell that I wouldn't even find a little funny.
But here we are in Southeastern Connecticut (you go far enough to the right on the map, it's southwestern Rhode Island; do it politically and it's the Middle Ages), and after a spring with a lot of rain and brisk temperatures, summer arrived, suddenly yesterday, both on the calendar and in the thermometer.
Some of us are not very happy about this. But unless my memory is deceiving me, those who are unhappy in the heat (and they have much to be unhappy about) look very much like those who were unhappy last week and the week before in the rain (though we had superlative weather last weekend), except now they're perspiring. I've been told women do not sweat, only men do; women glisten. Whether they can ghear is another matter but three and half decades of marriage have trained me to know when silence is golden.
So here we are, and hopefully if you like summer weather it's true where you are too (though Chris and Dave in Texas are probably still a little touchy on how much/little rain is needed from time to time) pretty much done on one side and ready to be turned over. And the summer is just beginning. Already those who hated the rain last week are hating the heat now.
What can I suggest? Brown #10 paper bags-fill 'em up and keep them in the hall closet so when February's snows fall and chill encamps, grab a handful, tear them open on the sidewalk and save yourself some shoveling. You'll have the rest of your life to regret this single and singular one moment that you can only enjoy once, so why waltz when you can rock and roll? Turn off this song and go outside.