Tomorrow my oldest will be 34 years old. My first boy. The one I remember thinking wasn’t real when I found out I was pregnant. I was unmarried, and not quite 22.
Yesterday was a marathon of driving from one end of the county to the opposite and in weather more conducive to July than November. To be more accurate, it’s cooler in July here than it has been the last many days. I’ve given up wishing and hoping for weather that smells and feels like…