One of the rituals of spring, when I was growing up, was putting all the outdoor furniture back out onto the terrace at my grandparents' summer home. In a time when central air was much less common than it is today, being able to relax outdoors, shaded by trees and a cool afternoon breeze, was an important part of keeping cool.
Forget Memorial Day -- the day we hauled the glass-topped table and its matching (and uncomfortable) metal chairs, the more comfortable blue plastic chairs and recliners, and the little side tables for holding drinks and snacks out from the basement, around the yard, and up onto the terrace, then cleaned it all off and arranged it into the familiar pattern, was the day the "season" really began.
I live in an apartment now, a long way from that Connecticut house which now belongs to my parents. But some things don't change. Today I took a sponge and some Windex and cleaned off my terrace furniture in preparation for the warmer months to come.
Tonight, I'll sit outdoors and drink a glass of wine. Life's good when the days are long.
