It is the heaven before the hell, the cool before the heat, the quiet before the spasmic influx. I love these mornings, when the sky is hazy, a sign of the weather to come in a few hours, and the fragrances from the fields, wildflowers, and even the pond itself are fresh and welcoming.
This long weekend is predicted to be worse than most, mainly because the weather has been iffy on nearly every other weekend for the past four months. We were out early this morning to beat the swelter, and there’s already a sense of the coming traffic.
While I do my best to forget about the depressing and cruel news of the day (pick a topic, any topic!), I’m planning our weekend accordingly. Books? Yes. Skinnydipping in our secret swimming hole? Yes. Writing for Substack and my book? Yes, yes, yes, and yes! There will be green smoothies, fresh fruit, cold salads (pasta and potato and three-bean varieties), and iced tea. Music goes hand in hand with much of my writing, and John Williams will be featured—h…
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