I live in the Midwest with it's brutally cold winters and summers. I hate the cold because everything is an ordeal. Going outside to get the newspaper or take out the trash is an ordeal. You have to put on snow boots and coat and hat and gloves for a 30 second trek. My fingers turn white from the lack of circulation. I sit on the couch in my cave of an old house not wanting to get up because I'll be cold if I do. I open up the cupboard and my coffee cups are cold to the touch because of the radiating cold coming through the walls. In the summer, I am able to just be. I don't mind the sweating, the stickiness, the flies, and mosquitoes. I am relieved to not be miserable for the first time in months.

... you got to write this essay and buy an air conditioner for your apartment.

They exclaim during any bout of sunshine. I look back either through the itchy eyes (with plugged sinuses) of hay fever or the slightly less discomforting antihistamine haze.

Beautiful weather? Yeah, right.

Give me the bracing mornings and reflective changes of autumn. Or consider the soothing rains of winter and spring, refreshing the land.

You said what I've always felt. Summer is vastly overrated, especially for an introvert like me. For me, the trick is not going to things that I don't enjoy (but consequently, spending way more time by myself than I would like).

As a grateful homeowner with a front yard, back yard, and deck to maintain with flowers, trees, shrubs, there is no time to complain about summer.

The yard demands mowing every week.

1 hr in back, 15 min in front.

Every 2 weeks, the weed eater is put into use. It is a great invention. Edging a walk path, removing errant grass with a fast zap and buzz, gives a feeling of accomplishment. Learning how to rewind new nylon cord into the weed eater was an act of liberation.

Summer heat demands disciplined watering on the alternate days that we are allowed to water - else plants like the ROYAL BURGUNDY BARBERRY will fry, curl at the edge of leaves, become grey looking, shrivel and go crisp.

Petunias, Clematis Romantica, hanging baskets all need a drink to be kept happy. If they are happy, they look happy, and I am happy to have their sweet charm.

I hand water the delicate plants...turn the rotating sprinkler onto the lawns, shifting the sprinklers as necessary to cover needed spots.

Summer is when 14 tree branches were cut down to avoid risk of damage to vehicles in case they break from the weight of snow when November comes.

With all the plant growth in summer, blackberry bushes and hedges have to be trimmed with my fanstastic FISKARS lopper.

After trimming it means loading the car with the yard waste (bring the seats down and line the cargo bed with an old shower curtain)and taking the yard waste to the friendly midtown dump ( open 364 days from 7am - 7pm ) where a car load of yard waste costs $4 to dump.

Summer is when my lavateria plants, 10 in all, generously and gloriously present their pink flowers on long thin branches which wave and sway in summer breeze. Lavateria is a cheap and fast way to add ornamentation to a yard.

Summer is when free concerts are given in the harborfront park 3 minutes away. People sit on blankets or bring their own chairs.

Summer is open toed shoes, as opposed to boots. Summer is walking on the beach.

I have experienced the heat and grime of NYC in summer. I found it hot, humid, unpleasant.

but a serious breast reduction and discrete tummy tuck took care of the clothing issues that seem to torture our author. Wife (and subsequently) I are happier for it..