A summer evening Caprese, wine, and the last of the sun With friends on the patio. A winter evening with Hot chocolate, a book, and a roaring fire Just me alone on the couch. I’ll take winter.

The sun never gets too hot on the west side; instead of vineyards we had raspberry fields; acre after acre of tangled vines. In other towns, the trucks smell of black exhaust but here, the trucks trail the scent of ripe raspberries as they roar…

am i done? no not yet. 1 more hour… yay?