I love summer. I live for summer. In February, when it snowed up to the eyeballs, practically, I dreamed of summer. In March, when the wind blew right through my coat, I thought wistfully of oppressive heat. In April, when I still pulled on my turtleneck in the morning and layered a fleece over it, I imagined curling my toes into warm sand. In May
(
Read more... )