Tonight on my way home from the gym (at 8:45, because I understand the beauty of kicking my own ass) I was overcome by the simple beauty of the night. As I drove, the fireflies flickered. Couples walked hand in hand along the sidewalks of the neighborhoods on my way home. The line outside the Dairy Queen stretched beyond the parking lot. Golfers were perfecting their swing at the driving range. And me? Well, I drove with the windows down, listening to some great tunes.
It's simple, but it's perfect. Summer nights are magic.
In less than two weeks, some of my people will gather together to spend a week's worth of summer nights together. I'll get to catch fireflies with two precious one-year-old girls, and listen to their giggles and read them stories. There will be long conversations on the back porch, long walks along the beach (during which Mike has assured me he will NOT hold my hand), meals prepared with love, and peach custard pie. (Secretly, I'm hoping we'll also get a killer thunderstorm, but I might be in the minority in hoping for that.)
I'm so ready.
Six more get-ups!
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