Where has summer gone?

I’ve got to admit, weather wise, it’s been a crappy summer.  Everyone thinks Southern France is all sun, but the truth is it is not.  Half the summers I’ve been here have been overcast and cool, but this year has been the worst.  This month, I don’t think we’ve yet reached 70 degrees.  And, very oddly, it’s raining – a lot.  About every three days to be exact.  In one sense, it’s good because we get a break from watering the garden, but in the other sense, well, it’s raining all the time.  I can’t even dry my sheets outside, and I’ve never seen it so green.  This weather explains the bumper crop of potatoes and onions we’re having, but it is doing absolutely nothing for the 10 different varieties of tomatoes we’re growing.  I’m beginning to think I’m going to need a bunch of recipes for green tomatoes.  Not to mention, I’m getting nostalgic when I hear news that the United States is having a heat wave.  I just about cried when imagines of open water hydrants on the streets of Chicago passed before me on the TV.  “Look at those children,” I thought to myself.  “Those lucky ducks are wearing shorts and they’re sweating!”  My daily garb is a polar fleece and jeans.  I’m beginning to doubt in the existence of the sun.  The sad news is we can’t get away from this weather.  Unlike past years, it’s not localized.  All of France is well below normal summer temperatures, and we are quite often the hot spot when we read over the daily weather forecast, which isn’t saying much.  My summer is slipping away without ever really arriving.  I love the changing of the seasons, but I want to welcome autumn’s breezes after a hot summer.  It makes the cool nights that much more special and not just another balmy day in a sequence of many.  I want each season to be marked by what makes it unique.  I want to sweat – not a sweater – in summer and look longingly at a swimming pool before diving in.  I want the things that fill my mind and keep me warm when November’s cold winds blow and I hunker down under the quilt.  I want summer back in all its glorious sweltering heat so that I can remember what it feels like to be a child again running out the back door to endless days of summer.