It’s early August, and the heat is on. Actually, the temps are refreshingly temperate this week — somehow luxurious in the unexpectedness of it, given the usual state of the state of Indiana in the summertime; not to mention the muggy wonderfulness of the Florida coast last week. (Yes, I was on vacation, and yes, it was glorious, and no, I am not lamenting the return to real life, in spite of the small hills of laundry.) But anyway… AUGUST. Predictably following JULY. Summer, right? Backyard Bar-B-Qs, swimming pools, boating, suntans, corn on the cob and watermelon — Summer. This is not the time for singing “Jingle Bells” or “Deck the Halls” or “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.” This is not the time for turtlenecks, woolen socks, and fuzzy stocking caps. This is not the season for fudge, or Scrooge, or twinkle lights. This is not, I repeat, NOT the time of year to open up Pinterest and find this:
A HUGE array of pins devoted to a Dickens classic looks great in mid-November. It warms the heart in early December, stirring nostalgia, ‘good will toward men’ and a taste for a Christmas goose. (Scratch that last one — I much prefer a Christmas turkey myself.) But in August, friends don’t let friends pine for Christmas (Ha! Get it?? PINE? Christmas? I know, I know — clever is as clever does…) when the tomatoes aren’t yet ripe on the vine. I don’t care if the pinner isn’t a real friend but only a sort of virtual one. She needs help. She needs a friend to keep her from missing out on the present because she’s pining and pinning in a virtual world. Listen up: friends don’t let friends blather on about the season that isn’t during the season that is! So get out there, slather on some sunscreen and head to your State fair, eat a popsicle, smell the Coppertone! It’s the dog days! Get out there and bark!