Go ahead and throw eggs at me, but summer is my least favorite season. I prefer autumn, winter, and spring. In that order.
I love my garden.
I love watching things grow.
I love time outside, tending our postage stamp-sized urban plot of bliss.
I love bouquets from my children.
I love lunches carried outside to be eaten in the grass, with my boys' sandals abandoned beside me for an al fresco soccer match ...
... and a pink-cheeked toddler who is not, not, NOT tired napping on my skirt.
Which I why I don't fight summer too much. Because, like all seasons, there is blessing here.