Dad's settling down for the night. Michael's upstairs with his horn. Claire is watching a show about sharks.
I am so happy to be in my big bed, fan going overhead, crickets and cicadas and other summer sounds buzzing outside my window. I love summer sounds.
Thinking about my brother, Rob, and our phone call, and how I get all swirly like this too...
"I can't believe it's August," he said. "Then, school, and fall, then winter, windows closed, smelly oil heater, cold. I'm giving myself that seasonal affective disorder and it's only August. I had to tell myself, reel it back in, buddy!"
We do get ahead of ourselves, don't we?