I live in the Deep South. Not by choice, trust me. My family, for some reason not logical to me, settled here over 20 years ago. It may have to do with my deeply southern, Alabama born and raised Mama. While I love her food and the polite genteel southern culture, I do not like living here.

I say “summah” because it is already so hot, you cannot help but drawl when you speak. My northern Midwest twang still rises up occasionally, and I speak very fast – the remnants of my years in more northern climes. I have adapted into occasional drawls, though, to blend in with the y’alls that sprinkle my speech.

It’s 95 degrees in the shade today, y’all-and it sure feels like summah.

You better have a screen for your car windshield, or you will be panting for 15 minutes while you sweat through your church clothes, waiting for the car to blast AC through the oven-hot temperatures.

Humidity is so thick right now that you are coated with moisture on every inch of exposed skin the moment you walk outside.

Cockroaches are boldly running around everywhere – and, boys and girls, these are the huge pests colloquially known as “palmetto bugs”, which is southern for flying cockroaches. A nightmare come true.

Then there are the “no see-ums”, invisible tiny pests that bite without your knowledge as you innocently sit on your porch, leaving large angry whelps on your arms and legs. If you dodge them, don’t worry – there are plenty of mosquitoes to continue the attack.

Did I tell you about the gnats? You can just be walking your dog down the street, trying to breathe in the thick fetid air, and suddenly you are engulfed in a cloud of tiny insects, who quickly work to stick to your sweaty neck and face. You open your mouth at your own peril.

You’ll need to take a shower just to recover from a short walk outside.

There are those who say you get used to the humidity. People like my Mama, who grew up in the Deep South and didn’t have such luxuries as air conditioning. My dear Mama, who keeps her condo so warm I need a fan and a glass of cold tea just to be comfortable.

Summah. Twenty years in, I still cannot handle the humidity. The bugs. The sudden torrential storms.

It’s never been my favorite season, but down here in the Deep South, it’s downright unbearable.