I didn’t need a calendar to tell me we are officially seven days into summer 2014.
I’ve had sweat dripping from my brow, not from running, since heaven knows I try to avoid that medieval form of torture, but from merely weeding my garden. You know winter and spring are long gone when you work up a sweat by walking to the mailbox to get the mail, but it’s all good because plain and simple — it’s summer.
Two weeks ago I rode home in a tow-truck, much like Sir Tow Mater, from Disney’s animated film “Cars,” because my eldest daughter’s car blew an engine three hours from home. Last