June is the the bastard child of the Mother Year. At least for me anyway.
When the snow starts to melt, we kind of lose interest in the effort it takes to go sledding. I didn't say we lose interest in riding, just all the work that goes into getting there and back. And the snow creates a mess in the mountains for the dirt bike and UTV, so that's kind of out for a while.
Basically, there's a four-week period that hits every year which costs me a lot of money. I get bored, and sitting in a chair inside my office doing actual work isn't an option.
I think coming off a sledding high every spring leaves me kind of wanting to be outside searching for something interesting to do. Years before, it's been guns, bows, cameras, trucks, golf, etc.
This year? Radio controlled trucks. You heard me. I'm what the shrinks call a grown-ass man, too. I try to play it off as something that I got for my son and I to do together, but I guarantee you I've logged double the time on my truck than he has on his. And I shudder to think of how much I've dumped into a total of six different trucks in a 6-week timeframe. We finally have some pretty sweet trucks, and you'd be amazed at the abuse they take and the crap you can jump with them. But I realize that's also pretty much the same as saying that rollerblading and fanny packs are pretty sweet once you find the right ones.
Just like every year, though, the worst part of the story is that once the weather cooperates for that first good dirt bike ride, I completely loose interest in whatever I was doing.
Can't wait 'til next spring. I should have these trucks paid off by then...