At least the trees are pretty

One of the first things we learned when we moved to the Pacific Northwest was that one does not speak of the glorious summer weather here. It is a Great Big Secret aimed at keeping away the sun worshippers and their inflated property values. Every time we tried to mention to long-timers how surprisingly nice the summer weather was, we were shushed with glances over both shoulders. “It rains ALL THE TIME, remember?” We quickly understood this was our line to tow whenever talking to outsiders.

This summer, however, there was no need for secrecy. Quite frankly, this summer sucked. It started off well enough that we pulled out our patio furniture in May. Undeniably a rookie move, but I was anxious for hot days, warm nights, and chilled wine at sunset.

June, July, August, even into September, I kept waiting for summer to come. I bought a new sundress and shorts. I dusted off my sunglasses. I stocked up on a favorite summer wine that is great on hot days. What I got instead was clouds and cold just about every weekend. I never got to wear that sundress. We only drank one bottle of that wine. We decided not to hold our annual big BBQ because I just couldn’t handle the stress of concocting Plan B for playing badminton and croquet indoors. My bottle of self-tanning lotion: mostly empty. My bottle of sunscreen: mostly full. All in all, a big bummer of a summer. And it came to an official end yesterday.

Yesterday, a day predicted to be rain-free, saw the return of our patio furniture to its winter retreat in the barn. We were thankfully able to put the umbrella up long enough for it to dry out. The citronella candles were stowed away. The outdoor speakers found their way back to the shelf in the garage. All that remains of my hopes for Summer 2007 is a small patch of mowed grass clippings and curled up rose petals that were captured under the patio umbrella stand. I’ve been staring at them wistfully all day while buried in an afghan next to the fire.