A farewell to summer and pleasures easy to forget

Well, it's almost over.

Summer, that is.

It doesn't last long here in Minnesota. Not much longer over in Wisconsin, or down in Iowa, for that matter.

That's too bad. I really like summer.

Always have.

Matter of fact, way back in elementary school, when My Weekly Reader first broke the news that sometime in the next century - when we'd all be flying in jet packs and living on food pills - the world was going to warm up and summer would be longer, I was worried I'd be too old to enjoy it when it happened.

That's one more thing I shouldn't have worried about. Global warming is upon us and the prospect of extending the gin-and-tonic season turns out much to my liking. Especially since it appears there's little chance of things cooling down until I might expect to have become quite at home in a far hotter place than this - at least according to some folks' prediction of my extended future.

In the meantime, if I can enjoy a shorter winter without putting up with alligators, armadillos, scorpions or Rick Perry, I'm personally inclined to follow in the Koch Brothers' carbon footprints ... wrong as I may know that to be. I fear that when it comes to reversing climate change, I share sentiment with St. Augustine, who, in pursuit of a different virtue, prayed, "God grant me chastity and continence, but not quite yet."

Had I money tied up in a snowmobile or a condo in Vail, I might feel differently. Not much chance of that, though. Eer since I learned making snowmen mainly involved wet mittens and cold feet, snow's been something to shovel and get stuck in, with less recreational value than swamp muck.

Still, it's not playtime that sends chills through me at the thought of the impending season. Being no great outdoor sportsman, the pleasure I find in a cool drink in a hammock in the shade is no greater than offered by a hot brandy on the sofa by the fire. That which makes summer most enjoyable are things less obviously enjoyed.

Like my heat bill.

Last month I didn't have one. I'm not going to count the $15 or so I sent Xcel to keep my shower water hot - not to start each and every morning with the Ice Bucket Challenge is well worth that and more. However, come the "ber" months, I'll be paying near exponential multiples of that just to keep the water in the toilet from solidifying beneath me. True, the AC sucks juice like a thirsty teenager, but neither I nor the house cares how hot it gets when I'm not in it.

No matter how hot it gets, leaving the AC off for a week while I explore life far far away doesn't result in a return to a damaged dwelling and the electricity it doesn't use I don't pay for. You just can't get away with that with central heat in December.

There are quite a number of things that summer simplifies. The only gloves I've lost in July went up a bale elevator, stuck under a particularly tight twine string. In the evening I can park my car on whichever side of the street that strikes my fancy and leave it there well into the next day with no worry about attracting the attention of the local gendarmerie. Come the holiday season, do the same and there are 50-50 odds I'll be gifting the municipal coffer $25 for not accurately matching date and house numbers before killing the ignition for the night.

Not only that, I have tomatoes in my back yard, the blanket in my car is there only for picnics, and the only snow around is in a paper cone topped with raspberry syrup.

And I can walk out to get the newspaper in my bare feet - as long as I remember to pull my pants on.

It's a great season. I'm gonna miss it.