It was hot--over ninety degrees!--this weekend, the flowers were exploding, the skies were clear, and the wading pool made its triumphant return to the backyard. Looking at these pictures, I feel downright giddy about Summer, like the heady beginning of a new love affair, when everything is perfect and promising and tingly, and it seems impossible that, in just a few weeks, Summer's bone-dry, soul-sucking heat will be riding my last nerve. All too soon, I will be cursing Summer's name, avoiding Summer's calls, and eventually just trying to skip town with that sexy, cool Autumn guy.
But, for the moment, Summer and I are likethis. Ah, young love.