Summer. It’s finally here. I’ve been waiting eons for it to be warm enough to take Noah out and really enjoy some time with him in the great outdoors.
Uhhh… it’s also… July. What happened to summer starting in May here in Utah? I feel like it’s already half-over!
My internal clock has been demanding summer for two months and sunshine of any sort since last September, which until a couple weeks ago was the last time we had any weather good enough to lose the jackets. A hard winter hit early last year, and it knocked Spring into the next county. There is no doubt that the never-ending season (which is so uncharacteristic of where I live) had given Noah and I a serious case of cabin fever.
Maybe, I thought a few months back, we can go somewhere else and get some sunshine. We can cheat the system. We can load up on some Vitamin D and come home with some serious tans. As I looked at Noah who (at that point) would often sit at the window, staring out at the rain with longing eyes, I couldn’t deny that the thought was a little too appealing. So I booked our tickets for England to arrive in early June and stay with my brother for three weeks. Three weeks… There was no way our summer time blues wouldn’t be kicked in the bud. Of course, summer airfare was twice what I’ve ever paid before, but the English summers are supposed to be well worth it.
Eric, my brother, kept us excited before we ever went, telling us about all the sunshine, the unbearable heat, and the all-out drought going on. Sounded perfect.
The first day we got there it rained. And rained. And rained. We were so tired I can’t say we cared, but it did worry us. You guys have three weeks, I thought to myself as I plopped Noah into the bed and we took a well deserved nap. You’ll get your sunshine.
In the three weeks we were there, we only had one day without rain, and most of the time it was serious enough that we found ourselves stuck inside. I called back home a couple times. Rain there, too.
Maybe I can will summer to show up by the time we get back home, I thought as we boarded the plane to go home. The day we were leaving, the forecast was nothing but sun and hot temperatures. Our cabin fever was worse than ever. We were cranky and bummed. I realized I shouldn’t have promised Noah lots of sunshine before we left. Murphy and her horrible law were just waiting for me to say something as concrete as that to my believing little man.
Eventually we landed, picked up our luggage and headed out of the airport. Immediately we were hit with a blast of hot, dry air. The sun was setting in the West. “Noah, do you feel that?” I asked. I expected him to ask me what I was talking about.
Instead he screamed, “the sun! I feel the sun, Dad!”
“Oh yeah. Let’s hope it sticks around a while!” I said as we gave Grandpa hugs and piled into his car.
A day later, our cabin fever was gone. We took our Bulldog Buddha for a long walk all the way to the park where we spent hours playing, lying on the grass, and soaking in as much sun as we could.
And, that was all it took. The bad weather that had plagued us for the last nine months was gone, and along with it, our cabin fever stir-craziness.