summer

This is the first week that it's really felt like summer, even though it's been warm for ages. I knew it was when I came home from work the other day to a house that smelled like my Grandmother's back room--old house, old furniture, books, a running washing machine, Florida humidity, grass, the dirt outside the open windows. I walked in, and for a moment, I thought I was going to cry. It's been almost a year and a half and I still keep getting broadsided like this.

But then, that passed and I remembered all the happy summers when we'd come back from wherever we were living all over the world, and we'd live in Grandma & Grandpa's un-air-conditioned old house, sleeping on cots and roll-out beds and the floor, and the heat didn't matter then because we were little and it doesn't matter to kids. I wish the summer could still be like that. I still get the urge, as soon as the temperature spikes, to go somewhere other than here. The emails I get from various travel sites probably don't help much with their "799$ for a week in an Irish Castle!"-type deals.

I guess I'll always be a gypsy like that. So I've made it a goal: I want to make enough money in my living to be able to just pick up and go every few months when a good deal to somewhere I want to go comes across my desk. I'll stay a week or three, decompress, work from the beach or a castle or whatever, and come home happy to see the place again.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to enjoy the sun before it gets so bad I can't bear to be outside.