Summer is but days away. The breeze is damp and tepid, as a storm front moves in. Promises of rain from the television give us hope for relief from the draught we have been feeling. The season, just barely here, seems to be slipping by with hardly a day or time to relish the moment. I’ve read of the lazy days of summer and have yet to experience them. The alarm clock still reaches into my subconscious at 5:30 am and shoves my exhausted body into my day. I see tiredness in my husband’s eyes and face, this, his busiest season. And the dreams of spending relaxing time lazing in the summer sun, watermelon juice running down our chins while the breeze gently sways the hammock, are yet just places in our minds.