Some people use the calendar to mark the beginning and ending of seasons. Not I. I use signs to let me know when summer has arrived, when winter has ended, etc. My mom, a recovering vegetarian, has been waiting for this summer to begin with her first picnic hamburger.

This morning I awoke to summer. The soft chirping of birds woke me up and I found that sometime yesterday I had gotten my first mosquito bite. I love the first mosquito bite of the season. I love a good itch. It’s so satisfying. Your leg itches so you scratch it and everything feels better. Wouldn’t it be nice if everything was that easy?

As I was happily scratching my skeeter bite, I discovered that it was not one but several mosquitoes that found me. One bite is the much-anticipated beginning of summer. More than one bite is just miserable. And as I lay in bed trying to go back to sleep, those damn birds kept chattering away, not letting me get any more rest.

Welcome, summer..