I love being my age. 42 to be exact. As I have mentioned numerous times before, to me it’s only a number and each new year is frosting. I have known too many wonderful people who did not have the luxury of celebrating the addition of candles on their cakes. Therefore, bring it on I say.… Continue reading 40 Schmorty, I think.
Summer. Bare toes (although painted in a fabulous color) in the green grass. Sand in between those toes. And in every other place. Fireflies. Fireworks. No work. Playtime. Downtime. Time to breathe. Breathe it in. One of our rituals of summer is berry picking. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries. If there is a berry around, we will be… Continue reading Into the Patch we go