Summer has arrived: the time that we were told was so beautiful and perfect; the season that made the windy, bone-chilling, gray winters and rainy, muddy springs all worth it. It’s the time of blue skies, fresh lobster, outdoor concerts on the river, increased road traffic from tourists, ninety degree, 100% humidity days, and…
As I sit on the deck, reclined in one of our red plastic Adironack chairs, swatting at horseflies and batting away gnats and mosquitoes, I wonder if Maine summers live up to the hype and if they truly tip the scales, making it worth living here the rest of the year. While it was another hot and humid day, at least the evenings bring some relief from the heat, if not from the relentless irritation of bugs.
I am fairly certain that Maine has the largest collection of the most irritating, obnoxious bugs around. They bite your skin whether exposed or covered, swarm in your ears, launch themselves at your face, crawl up your legs if you dare to shed your flip-flops, and make it pretty unbearable to be in the great outdoors.
Basically, bugs abound in Maine. And they come out to play hardball in the summer. And they don’t play nice. It’s ironic in a sick sort of way, our little nickname for each other (bug). Little did we know when we first coined our pet name that the word would take on new and irritating connotations in Maine.
In other more upbeat news, mom and dad came out to visit! Among other things, we burned pork in the fire pit and played lots of euchre (girls got crushed by the boys and Stephane’s Swiss Shuffle – he flipped a bower AND had a loner pretty much every time).
So we’ll see what August brings – perhaps all the bugs drop dead, the temps drop to the seventies, and the humidity lightens – perhaps AUGUST is what everyone was talking about.