Summer Time

I wouldn’t say I like summer; I think summer is overrated. If you want summer, I apologize if I’ve just offended you. Hear me out. I would be happiest in a temperature zone that doesn’t get above 75 degrees. I would be most comfortable in a location that still has all four seasons, doesn’t get above 75, and never below 25. I don’t want to be warm, but I also don’t want to be too cold. I have a significant case of Goldilocks syndrome. That being said, I live in Pennsylvania, and I love it here, most of the time. The past few weeks have been tough, though.. We’ve had temperatures close to 100 degrees or in the 90s with overnight temperatures in the 80s. That’s not what I’m looking for in life.

Living with heart failure makes it harder to handle swings in temperature and makes high heat and humidity almost unbearable for me. During the summer, I feel trapped. Simple things like taking a walk become hard for me. This year we discovered that the new and wonderful old home we moved into right before winter started in 2020 isn’t a good fit for me in summer. Our bedroom is on the third floor, and it’s hot, even with an air conditioner in the window, it’s hot. So, we’re once again looking for a new home and planning to move. Honestly, I’m tired of moving. We’ve moved seven times in fifteen years, and this would be move number eight. I’m tired of packing up my entire life and moving it, unpacking, and making a new place home.

This post is me whining, and it’s for my health that we’ll move. I’m thankful that we have the ability to pack up and move. Everything will work out; it always does. 🙂

What exactly does overstocked mean?

In October 2006, my husband and I got married. It was less than a year after we started dating. Our relationship was a whirlwind. We started dating the weekend after Thanksgiving in 2005; I moved into his apartment on Valentine’s Day 2006. By the end of February that year, I had proposed to him. We decided on a fall wedding because the weather is better, and I love all things fall. Originally I wanted haybales with pumpkins but settled for large planters of mums. It was perfect! Now, if you did a little math, that means you’ve probably figured out that this year is a big year for us. This year we’ll celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary!

We decided for our anniversary this year we’re going to celebrate with a big vacation. We haven’t been on a big vacation since our honeymoon in 2006. We aren’t going away, people. Honestly, for many years, we couldn’t afford a trip to the movies, much less a big vacay. So this year, since things are looking better for us, we decided to celebrate. On a whim, I started scouting out beach houses up and down the East Coast. In December, I found the perfect home; it was HUGE! Much bigger than two people needed, but it was perfect. The only catch, the house was only available for Memorial Day weekend; that’s a few months ahead of our anniversary. We discussed and said, “why not?” and booked our vacation home. Then we started to invite friends. Memorial Day weekend is a tough one. Kids are still in school, people aren’t ready to take their summer vacations, and it’s a holiday. So we ended up with a small band of friends joining us for the week. Honestly, I wouldn’t change anything; it was perfect.

This momentous occasion brings me to our title. A few days before our vacation, I emailed to find out precisely what the kitchen situation was like and was told it was an OVERSTOCKED kitchen. The rental agency for the house sent me contradictory statements about the status of the kitchen. One email told me there was a fully stocked kitchen, and another told me there was nothing in the kitchen. Being a newbie to this vacation rental process, I didn’t bother to email back and asked what made it overstocked—a mistake. After 10.5 hours in the car, we arrive with two dogs to find that the kitchen is bare. There is a set of plates, glasses, and silverware, but nothing else. Some of the cookware’s seen better days. There isn’t even salt and pepper. I think back to the email stating that the kitchen was overstocked and laugh.. We made it through, spent a ton of money on simple things, like salt and pepper. If I had known then what I know now, I would’ve packed up our kitchen because we barely ate out while we were there. The only thing I can think of was that one person’s version of overstocked is another person’s empty.

When we got home, I filled out the survey for the house and the rental company. I asked them to stop using the term overstocked in their messaging about houses unless it’s actually true. I also suggested that they include a list of things you might want to bring for the kitchen for newbies to the rental process. Lord knows, if I saw that I needed salt and pepper for the kitchen, I would’ve known from there to pack my whole pantry.

Honestly, I wouldn’t change anything about our big vacay. It was like our marriage. Some things have been very different than what I was expecting. Times have been lean, and they’ve been filled with short-term riches. We’ve had struggles and fantastically wonderful times. We’ve confused each other and helped each other grow. We started with a blank kitchen, and for 15 years, we’ve been filling it with memories, spices, new recipes, and making it our home.

Life doesn’t follow a pattern

I’ve started the blog in my mind more times than I can count. I’ve started it online, and published content at least four times. My struggle always comes back to I don’t have anything to say that someone hasn’t already said before, and probably said it better. Life is funny like that. Are there any original thoughts left? There must be. People keep inventing new gadgets and gizmos. Things I didn’t even know that I needed. Instagram is always showing me something new that based on my search history I must need in my life. Sometimes, it makes a suggestion I can’t live without, sometimes I laugh at the absurdity of someone else’s idea. I guess now it feels like if everyone else can create, blog, or whatever their chosen method might be, why can’t I?

That’s where this blog takes me. That’s why right now, I’m sitting in front of a computer, on a Saturday night at 7:30 PM, typing away. Life doesn’t follow a pattern. Maybe, at one time it did, but I don’t know that in the distant past it followed a logical pattern, and now it certainly doesn’t. True, to a certain extent the early years of our life, when school is involved follow a pattern. Day in and day out life moves at the same pace for many kids. After school and college are over, it is a wide open space with time to fill. So at 7:30 on a June Saturday night, I’m filling my big open space by typing a blog post.

Why am I here? Why will I be typing these stories of my life? I don’t know. What I do know is one day, hopefully in the distant future I won’t know who I am any longer. Maybe when that day comes I’ll be able to sit back and read all that I posted here, and maybe it will spark a memory. Maybe it won’t and it will all seem like someone else’s story to me. Even if there is just a tiny speck of a chance that reading my stories will help me remember, taking a few minutes every few days or so to create a pattern of stories is worth the time. Perhaps just maybe writing down my stories will create enough of a pattern that I can remember who I am.