There is blessing here

I love summer in the Pacific Northwest. It's not too hot, not too dry, and not too long. None of those things appeal to me, and I'm woman enough to admit it. Daytime highs of 70 degrees are perfect. Afternoons interrupted by showers are lovely. And six weeks is plenty.

Go ahead and throw eggs at me, but summer is my least favorite season. I prefer autumn, winter, and spring. In that order.

BUT ...

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.