This might be my favorite time to live here, when the days are long and we become languid and revel in the warm nights and the fluidity of time, when there are less commitments and the garden begins to bring forth its wealth. There are flowers all over my porch, ripening eggplants and frills of pale green Russian kale, and I'm going to hang out at the lake tonight with a home, plotting night drives with much-missed folks, looking forward to times of loud music and good conversation.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/series/musicweekly
ReplyDeleteCan't compare to the week after fall semester finals when it's cold, dark for the greatest amount of time, and there's no one around to bore/annoy one to tears, but then again, you are quite straunge.
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