5 minute read
Life Under Pines
PL
Pool Envy
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By Sundi McLaughlin
The dog days of summer are upon us. The earth is absolutely scorched this time of year and many of us are in a desperate search for relief. The easiest and quickest balm to the spirit is a pool, thus the summer search begins: maybe it’s a friend or a second cousin thrice removed, an old co-worker you haven’t talked to in a while … whatever the case, now is the time to reach out, shower them in gifts and compliments, and cajole them into a Saturday pool invite! Basically it is bribery, but these are desperate times, my friends.
This year, however, my summer goal is a little more extreme. I am in search of the most elusive of all summer treasures: the friend who owns a beach house! These mythical creatures who own palatial estates on the surf and never seem to find the time to visit their own slice of paradise due to (what I imagine) their long hours counting gold bars … alas dear friends I dream of the day when one of these fictional best friends calls me up and implores me to drop everything and spend some time at their ocean chalet. Although it is a burden, I gamely rise to the occasion and spend my days waking up, rolling out of bed like the giant beached whale I am and rolling straight into the surf.
Don’t misunderstand me, I am not trying to freeload. I am happy to do my part. Need a good scrub on your jewel-encrusted pool? Maybe a pressure wash on your lion statues out front? Maybe your old estate has a ghost or an old mystery that needs to be removed/ solved—look no further!
This daring idea began at my shop where one lucky customer after the next would come in to pick up a little gift to thank their friends who’ve let them borrow their beach house for a week, a month, a summer! First of all, a week at the beach deserves more than a candle. It is a candle, a pair of pajamas, a piece of jewelry, a vow to avenge their betrayed loved ones, and an original piece of art of their beautiful home by the sea with you giddily frolicking in the background … but I digress.
Buying my own seaside villa is a bit outside of my reality—we could at least have had a pool put in last summer, but my Man wanted a pond instead. So now I am the caretaker to five koi fish: Michael Phelps (fast as lightning), two Shubunkins, one called Gilly Idol and another called Whitey Bulger who is all white (obviously). Finally, we have two beautiful goldfish called Gloria Jane, after my lovely Grandma, and the other one, I am embarrassed to admit,
remains unnamed.
Back to the pond, yes, you can technically get in there and float around but Gloria Jane the goldfish is pregnant and I am trying to create a calm environment during her last trimester, which is actually easy to do, the pond with its waterfalls, plants and other fish friends is a wonderful and peaceful yearround joy. I don’t want you to think I’m complaining because I am absolutely not. I love it very much, but it is definitely not the same as diving into the calm blue waters of a nice big pool to cool down.
If a pool is out of reach, the other thing that is critical to beat this relentless Southern heat is ice cream. Now, my mama calls ice cream the devil and she swears during the summer of 2015 when she indulged in a bowl of ice cream every night before bed it caused her to gain an extra 20 pounds, which she claims has never been able to work off … draw your own conclusions. Nevertheless, I think the science has proven ice cream is the best way to lower your core body temperature as well as calm your country fried nerves. It’s all about finding your own life hacks to survive this off-putting weather and these are my fantasies and facts … plus alcohol, obviously.
This hasn’t always been my M.O. Back in the day when my brother and I were growing up, my parents would drive cross-country from Florida to Idaho in Buying my own seaside villa is a bit outside of my reality—we could at least have had a pool put in last summer, but my Man wanted a pond instead. So now I am the caretaker to five koi fish ....
our conversion van where I would sit in the back and jam out to Pat Benatar, INXS and the B52s. We made this journey to spend the summer with our grandparents, where we would binge on Steakums, Tang, and banana and root beer popsicles. It was nirvana, 100 percent pure heaven. The weather was perfect. Those summers were so easy and carefree.
My friend Renee had a trampoline and after we jumped till we couldn’t breathe, we would play the creepy game of Concentrate. As the sun began to set, we would lie back on the trampoline to watch the stars and then proceed to freak ourselves out with ghost stories while tugging on Red Rope Licorice and using it as a straw for our Coke bottles. The small western town also had an annual summer parade where they celebrated being the first town ever to be powered by atomic energy. There were fireworks, twirling batons and cowboys on horses—it was an absolute paradise for this Florida girl.
So this summer I really hope to emulate that feeling of freedom and discovery—I just need to take a three-month leave of absence, hand over all adult responsibilities, meet a magical friend with a castle on the beach who is far too busy printing money to actually visit, have ice cream delivered to my beach chair and a parade of cowboys on horseback. Maybe the house is haunted and my friends and I solve the years-old mystery and set the ghost free to move on to, well wherever ghosts go after they are done haunting things. Seems totally doable, but just in case this perfect scenario doesn’t work out, I will barge my way into my friend Jessica’s pool, with her beautiful poolside furniture, floaties, vibrant flowers in pots waving in the breeze and tunes piping out of an outdoor speaker.
Would she like some alone time with her gorgeous backyard paradise? Absolutely, but these are the burdens of having a thing that others covet. This summer I hope you find your pool, eat your ice cream, watch a parade and find those magical friends who are willing to put up with your nonsense … right her Under the Pines.PL
