Summer

I was helping to pack up the theater the other night after a very long day of children with whistles and stomach complaints. This unfortunately meant that I actually had to go outside after dark, leaving the theater's womb and all its warmth. I had planned for a smooth transition - you know like when you get the toast out of the toaster promptly after it's popped, propelling it onto the plate to avoid burnt fingertips (note the alliteration.. please). The transit, however, did not run according to plan, as we were delayed outside the car doors by an early onset of Frost.

It took copious amounts of ice and a Smart Car to make me realise how much I missed summer.



Grandma's old bathing suits...



The necessity for sunglasses...
Swimming pools...
Tea parties at Grandma's house.
Picnics on the grass...



Perhaps if I were Inuit or some sort of Arctic mammal, I would appreciate the cooler temperatures a lot more than what I do. Sadly, due to a thin layer of skin, sparsely covering hair and a greed to be wearing a dress all of the time, I desire negative degree temperatures about as much as I do Iranian Politics.



Six months and counting...