Summer begins three times: the Solstice, the first day of summer break, and Memorial Day Weekend.
And the beginning is always better than the end, so I'm happy to begin summer over and over again.
This weekend we celebrated the season with beer and crabs, flowers, and rope swings.
It wasn't hot enough for my liking but a cook-out with friends was a nice break from packing,
packing I'll pretend like I'm helping with even if I'm mostly out shopping for paint and light fixtures and pretty things
while Tom is cleaning and packing, organizing and compressing nine years of life into some recycled card board cubes.
Oh how I prefer beginnings; I'm so excited about a new house, our first house.
I'm excited about painting and projects and possibility,
and I'm trying desperately not to think too much about the end of this house I've loved so much.
Maybe that's why I'm off buying for our new home, while Tom slaves away getting us ready to leave our old one.
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