As June comes to a close, my son paused by my computer, touched my shoulder, whispered with dread: Mom–what’s the date today?

I told him: Dude, it’s only barely almost July.

He was clearly relieved the summer was still before him–to be honest, so was I. He headed to the community pool to meet a friend and I carried on writing/revising with a lunch of frozen watermelon chunks and a glass of cold lemonade.

We. Love. Summer.

And may need to see a family therapist come the first week of August for end-of-summer-vacation coping skills.

Yours in (what else but!) endless summer vacation (and revising),

PB.