Terry Flanagan: The Days of the Patio Furniture Are Numbered

Despite the terrific weather we’re having this week, we all know what’s coming in the weeks ahead. This weather is a teaser. It may not be Indian Summer since I don’t think we’ve had a hard freeze yet, although we have flirted with freezing temperatures a couple of nights. My one sure sign of Indian Summer used to be the appearance of John McKutcheon’s Injun Summer illustration and narrative on the cover of the Chicago Tribune magazine. But that tradition, like , has gone to the happy hunting grounds to satisfy our collective sense of political correctness and guilt.

Whatever you call it, this last warm spell gives us procrastinators a chance to finish up those final outside jobs in preparation for the cold weather ahead. The last thing I do is clean the patio furniture and put it away. That’s when I finally acknowledge I’ve lost the battle to prolong summer and face the fact that the cold weather is coming and winter has once again triumphed.

One of the reasons we bought this house was the screened-in patio in the back. It’s a good-sized patio with room for the grill, a dining set with four chairs, a couple of loungers, and a couple of chairs and side tables. As soon as it starts to get warm, I clean up the patio, set up the furniture, and make myself the same promise I make every spring—that we will use the patio more this year. And every, year as I face the prospect of putting away the patio furniture, I regret that we made far too little use of the patio.

It’s either too hot or too cold. Or we have places we have to go. Or we don’t have enough time because we have other things to do. So the patio sits unused most of the summer except for the cats. They’re out there from the time we first set up everything until the last piece of furniture is put away. They curl up on the lounge chairs to enjoy summer afternoon naps. They find a sunny spot to stretch out and watch the ground squirrels running across the yard. They sit atop the grill and yawn, ignoring the cardinal scolding them from the tree nearby. They take full advantage of the patio and its amenities every second they can.

So the other night Dorothy and I ate dinner on the patio by candlelight. It was a bit cooler than a lot of the summer nights we missed out there. But it was still enjoyable and peaceful and a nice break from our usual hectic pace. And, of course, the cats joined us. I’m sure they were smugly telling us in the way that cats do, that we humans ought to be more like them and relax and enjoy the simple things life has to offer.

I know those cold, dreary winter days are coming and soon I’ll be looking out on a bare and desolate patio. Like the cats, I’ll be wondering how long before we’ll be able to enjoy it outside again. In the meantime, though, I’m going to try and make up for some of that lost time and enjoy the few warm days we have left.