Southern Summer Cicadas - Creating Motherhood

When I think about my childhood summers I immediately think about the smell of pine sap, the taste of water from a plastic hose, the feel of my pony tail swaying against my neck, and the rhythm of the cicadas.

I think about sunblock, freckles, watermelon, and that uniquely complex smell of central air in an old home.

I think about my Grandparents.

A summer in the south is far from still or quiet. The air is thick with humidity but it seldom slows anyone down. I, of course, was the exception. While most people tend to hibernate in the winter my hibernation season began the moment I spotted someone wearing shorts. Technically summer would be weeks, maybe even months away, but by mid Spring things started to get balmy in Alabama and balmy and I do not mix well.

I remember friends from school eagerly talking about camp or sports and trying very hard to hide my disgust. Why on earth would anyone want to run around and perspire?

My childhood summers were spent in cool, dark rooms. I would lounge across a sofa and read until my eyes twitched. If I left the house it was to run errands with my Grandmother which went a little something like this:

? 10 minutes chilling in the back seat (almost shivering from the blast of the a/c) while Millie drove to errand number 1.

? Arriving at errand number 1, opening the car door, exclaiming, ?OH MY GAAAAAAAWD IT IS HOT!?, darting into shop

? Cooling off while Millie shopped

? Running back to the car, complaining about the heat the entire time, opening the door to the car and nearly fainting from heat, burning the back of my thighs from vinyl car seats on fire

? Sitting as close as possible to the vent in the car as Millie drove to errand number 2, mopping up my face sweat with the hem of my t-shirt, trying to ignore Millie frowning at t-shirt-as-hankie manoeuver via the rearview mirror

? Arriving at errand number 2 and begging, pleading, imploring that I be allowed to stay in the car with the air running while Millie went into the Post Office/ Frame Store / Drug Store

? Dragging myself across the parking lot and pouting at or to anyone that looked at me. I WAS HOT!

? Dragging myself back to the car with Millie and making sure I really yelped when my legs touched the car seats.

? Pouting for entire drive back home.

? Running into the house and grabbing a cool fresca from the pantry floor and yelling, ?I AM NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE AGAIN!?

I perfected this routine starting at the age of 9. I only got more dramatic about the heat as I got older.

My summer was not filled with beach vacations or pool parties. If we barbecued it was not a typical family affair. Millie and I would prepare the meal, set the table, make the tea, and my Grandfather would stand outside, alone on the patio, in a long-sleeved shirt and clip on tie, and ?prepare the meat?.

I know I am not typical when it comes to summers and heat. I have to push through my natural inclination to want to stay inside for three months ? I seem to have a son that needs to go outside. It?s hilarious. (In the same way that it is oh so funny to discover that your child is a morning person.) (I am not a morning person.) (Obviously).

I am curious about what your childhood summers were like. Were you camped out in a dark den reading Sweet Valley High like me or was there something else to do from June through August?

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