budding summer

spring quiche

Today was my last day at work this year.  The students are fed and ready for their exams, and a beautiful day is there outside my open window, a day that tans your shoulders and perks up shy seedlings and sends all the leaves out of their shells.  I have bare legs, feet, shoulders.  I am drinking cold water from mason jars foggy with condensation.  I am smelling sun on dirt and plants and, when I stand near it, the blossoms of our plum tree.

It is summer.  And this is my favorite summer at all.  It is the summer of my second child.  Though she(or he) will only see the end of it, to me it is a summer all their own.  Every large jar of iced mint tea, the smell of cut grass, those first icy watermelons, and every tomato.  And I look forward to a million small things: to gardening, to getting the house ready, to spending mornings outdoors and then shutting all the curtain, to reading books, to trips to the lake.  And I look forward to spending as much time with Reed as possible, soaking up these three last months of going about our days as a twosome.  I am very glad and grateful.

(Today, we will eat a lot of ice cream and listen to The Tallest Man on Earth)


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