Summer... With all its stench and humid misery condensed into a few months... We eagerly await its arrival each winter, but we seem to have amnesia year to year on how it truly is during July and August. I grow weary of dripping in the heat, and watching the unchanging weather drift into one long, hot day... I'd be happy with a truncated summer this year to tell you the truth. Living in the south, we have two seasons. Hot and cold... My childhood memories of the seasons in general, are much different than the ones I hold now. Where are the mild mid-seventies weather I remember as a youth? Where are the extended autumns that seemed to last several months; or the springs that slowly morphed into warm days filled with swimming and laughter? Perhaps when you are young, things just seem better. As you age you grow intolerant of things, and today, my patience with this time of year is all but gone...