When they needed you one day.

Something unpleasant happened that I'm not yet ready to talk about. But I'm near a point of getting ready to do so. Nothing life-threatening or sorrowful, just unpleasant.

Strawberries are in full swing at the market, tomatoes and zucchini have been spotted, and the nights are getting sticky. It's past the cusp and into summer proper. Such as it is, at least. I've been fixating and talking about dry summers in the Central Valley and most of California for a while now. Not that I don't want to get caught in another downpour - I'd honestly love to, because they smell amazing - more that I'd like to be in a summertime that's settled into itself as a season. The other three on the East Coast and the Pittsburgh region all made sense according to the internalized perceptions I'd developed over my childhood. It's winter, it gets cold. It's fall, it gets chilly. It's spring, it starts to get warm. But summer shouldn't get cool and wet. It's summer. There should be some settling of the sky.