In which I complain about the weather again

May I just state, for the record, how indignant I am about Brussels' idea of summertime?

While the New York Times features articles about ice-cold thirst quenchers, web ads are full of bikinis and tank tops, and my sister has to install an air conditioner because it's too hot to breathe, here in Brussels a cup of tea, a fleece hoody, and a chenille blanket sound just about right.

Except they sound WRONG, because it's almost JULY, and I'm ready for a little bit of summer. I have actually been wearing my WINTER coat when I am forced to leave the house, and the bleak, cold rain just keeps coming. It hasn't let up for a week.

I wore a sleeveless shirt for M's party on Tuesday night, and actually got surprised comments about how "summery" I looked, everybody else having come bundled in coats and scarves and bearing gigantic umbrellas. It should not be surprising that one wears a "summery" shirt, it being "summer" and all, but of course here the term merits the ironic quotation marks. I just told people that since I didn't have to leave the house, the party being at our place, I could pretend for a little while that it's actually being seasonal outside.

If there's a silver lining in all of this, it's that in the absence of shorts and skirts I don't have to shave my legs very often, and folks, that is NOT much of a silver lining.