Seattle is having a hard time heaving itself over the line to summer. Normally I would fully support that--our mother star and I are not on good terms--but in my head it is already time for drinking outside and having barbecues and kissing inappropriate people. I also have a young tomato to worry about, a tomato that's not going to finish ripening without a little less rain and bluster.
I had too-optimistically put away my winter coats and thought through my wardrobe without tights, and in the last week or so I've had to reverse all of that thinking and put my legs back in microfiber. I've had a taste of pitchers of beer on the patio at Linda's and playing catch in the park and long, leisurely walks home, and I can say unequivocally that, though I love the rain, I'm ready for it to take a break.
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