It's already freakin' summer here, but first everybody had to go and get sick first. The shift in temperature can really mess with the body. Don't ever tell me again that discussing the weather is banal. The thing obviously rules our lives.
Ever since I finished high school, I couldn't care less about summer. The only good thing about it had been that we didn't have to go to school. Living in the tropics, I can't get excited about warm, well, even warmer weather. I just can't. It honestly fills me with dread, especially now that I'm an adult who has to worry about the spike in our electricity bill with the air conditioning running practically the whole day.
With that no-school perk gone (we're unschoolers), I couldn't find any other redeeming quality. Except maybe it does give me an excuse to binge on ice cream, snow cones, paletas (popsicles), and halo-halo.
Last Saturday, the freezer was stocked with ice cream.
There was marshmallow fluff, leftover from the marshmallow bars I'd made earlier that day.
There were syrup and sprinkles as well, so out came the sundae glasses (a present from my sister Chipi) and we commiserated the miserable (to us - we thrive better in muuuuch cooler temperatures) weather by putting together the most decadent sweet-cold concoction we could from what we had on hand.
If I gain weight and diabetes, the weather is to blame, right? Right? No? Oh well.