I typically sigh when someone talks about how much they love summertime.

My stock response is always: “it’s too hot!” I have always preferred Fall and Spring with their reasonable temperatures. I don’t like stepping outside and feeling like I stepped into a sauna.

But this year it’s been different for me. I have rather enjoyed this Summer and not been so exhausted with the high temperatures (it’s only the beginning if July, I know). Maybe it’s that I don’t care if I sweat like a piglet anymore – the world can gasp and point at my soaked armpits or sweat-stained shorts – doesn’t bother me a bit. Or maybe it’s that the kids are able to jump on their bikes or scooters and ride up to the park or Stauf’s without me having to haul 100 pounds in a stroller (however, I still have my days that I love to do that). Or maybe it’s that I am more observant and I find such delight in an exquisite, orange flower amongst bright green grasses or a yellow finch darting across my path to a resting spot. Or maybe, and likely the most probable, it’s that I get to enjoy gelato on the wooden bench on Grandview Avenue with two of my favorite people ever.