Summertime

Summertime.  As a kid it meant freedom from classrooms and homework, county fairs and playing ’til the fireflies came out. As a young adult it meant fun in the sun and late nights at the bars.  Now, however, Summer has changed for me

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again.  This time in my life it is all about colors and smells and sneaking in that walk before the heat becomes too much.  It’s about ice coffee and flowers, and baking in the morning so you can turn your oven off by noon. It means less me time but more mom time, with no homework to check on or taxi services to provide.

Summer means something different to everyone, I suppose.  I will admit, it’s not my favorite of the four seasons, but I will never turn down a Farmer’s Market run or the chance to plop my feet in a pool with an ice cold beer in my hands.  Who would, am I right? If I’m honest, it’s the humidity that slithers its way into my little Southern summer, that I cannot stand.  Curse you, humidity.  You are (pun intended) uncool.  As a child who grew up without air conditioning, I vowed when I was an adult, to never sleep in any kind of heat whatsoever. Much to my darling husband’s chagrin, I’ve kept that promise that I made.  Go, me!

So what about you?  Are you a Summer person?  Do you live and breathe and count the days until you can wear white and barbecue every single day?  If so, can I come over?

Until next time.

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jmeveritt
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