The first firefly

So I’m having one of those blah weeks —

PMS.

It’s gorgeous outside and I’m stuck inside.

Am I doing what I was destined to do, or did I miss a career boat somewhere along the way?

While this fabulous weather tortures me by day, it’s allowed for some great outdoor time in the evening.

Last night, I poured a glass of wine and joined Hubs on the porch. He sprawled in the Adirondack two-seater his grandpa made. And I stretched out on the porch swing.

Just as I began listing my complaints of the day, Hubs pointed.

There, just above us, a lone firefly flickered.

It vanished only minutes later. But the promise of summer, with it’s sunshine and lazy days, lingered long after.

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