June Already?

I'm not sure quite how it happened, but I woke up this morning and the calendar, my computer and my phone all told me that it's June first. Since they all agree, it must be true; but where did the first 5 months of 2006 go, I wonder? Let's see, getting Lakeview Trails North moving toward building took large chunks of time at the beginning of the year. Preparing the books for tax returns and actually preparing tax returns took another bite out of the calendar. Of course, The Wedding took more time and energy than I thought possible, since I thought I had contracted out all the services required (except for dress-shopping, strategizing and planning, emotionally supporting the bride and others... hmm, okay, maybe I didn't contract out everything.) Add to that some other family and friends' events, both joyful and not so joyful, and here we are with nearly half the year behind us.

June brings the onset of triple-digit temperatures as a steady diet, an increase in the mobility of my neighbors moving in or out or nearby, and the ubiquitous vacationing decisionmaker in various businesses. In the community-building business, which already has the reputation of taking longer and costing more, getting things done in a timely manner becomes a hit-or-miss proposition. Still, those who remain in the valley plug along regardless of the heat, requests for help moving, or lack of ability to close a loop until the boss gets back.

The Mister and I will be out of town some this summer as well (our annual family/friend camping trip is just a couple of weeks away), but while we're all still around, let's talk about the heat and get that out of the way, shall we?

I've posted before on the the fact that I grew up mostly in Wyoming, where the winters lasted 9 months and you could freeze your nosehairs just going out to bring in more firewood. I stored up enough cold in those years to last a lifetime, and so I consider the Arizona summers as just part of my process of thawing out. My eternal quest for shade is not an implicit complaint; it is merely common sense. Anyone who lives in Arizona for any length of time develops that common sense about how to live in the sun. This article in today's AZ Republic codifies that common sense for those newcomers:

With 100 degree-plus temperatures, the only way to stay sane from here until October is to live inside in the AC or in the pool.

If you have kids, you know that staying inside all summer isn't an option, but the baking heat of the Arizona sun is enough to make everyone, no matter their complexion, reach for sunscreen.

The article is titled "Clothes, Shade, Sunblock best protection for kids," but of course that's the best protection for grownups as well. Have you ever noticed that farmers all wear some sort of hat, long-sleeved shirts, and long pants - usually jeans, which is the hottest fabric known to man - even throughout the summer? It isn't due to "farmer chic," as The Mister tried to get me to believe for the first years of our marriage; it's for survival, as one works in those temperatures all day. Hydration is the other key to battling the heat which, oddly enough, the article doesn't mention. Again, we should take our cues from the farmers (and construction workers) who have the big brightly colored water coolers fastened to their trucks, or the half-frozen gallon jugs of water on their front seats. Drink lots of water; that's all there is to it.

Okay, I guess I'm ready for summer now that I've talked it through a little bit. Bring on the early sunrises and late sunsets, the cheap(er than usual) resort hotels and green fees, the relaxed schedules, the flexible visits from my kids, the icy cold theaters and malls, the salads for supper; and yes, bring on the sun. Just give me some shady parking lots along with it.