This week, summer arrived. Temperatures rose to levels we haven’t seen in 9 months (mid to upper eighties, plus a healthy sprinkling of humidity). My porch plants wilted as I forgot to make the transition for rare waterings (due to all the rain) to frequent waterings (as they bake in the sun). Pippin climbed into my lap for his customary morning and evening cuddles only to hop down a minute later, offended by the warmth of close contact. Sunlight streamed down until after 9pm, making each day feel like two: a work day and an after work day.

I’ve been waiting for sunlight for months. I’ve daydreamed about long evenings on the porch with a book and a tall glass of iced tea, about after-dinner walks, about getting home from work an not having to turn on the lights. What I’d managed to forget, though, is that when there’s sunlight from 5:30am to 9:30pm, things get rather warm, especially on a third floor apartment.

So here I am, thrilled to have sunlight, but ruefully closing all my shades every morning and not opening them up again until the cool of the evening. So here on a Saturday at noon, I sit in a dim room contemplating lunch.