Each year, I dread the beginning of the Floridian summer. The days of ninety degree weather seem to sneak up on you, slapping you to the ground as if to push you into an oven. For months, you bake daily. The air conditioner never seems to stop running, and the electric company eyes the meter greedily. My energy costs go up by about 50% each time, and each time I cringe upon viewing the damage. I much prefer the sort of weather that allows you to freely open your windows and enjoy the fresh air in your lungs. In Florida, I don’t think I get enough of that.
So settle in with your lemonade, watermelon, ice cream, and bathing suits — it’s summer in Gainesville.
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