It's summer, I don't care what the calendar says.
In support of my position, I offer the following: I saw lightning bugs in my yard two nights ago, the ice cream truck is making its rounds in my neighborhood, I turned on the air conditioner in my house already, and yesterday I pulled a tick out of my toe.
But the best and surest sign it's summer around here? White Trash Bob has returned! Hooray! Okay, so he didn't really go anywhere, since he and Mrs. WTB live just down the street. But you see, all winter long we go without seeing each other as we hibernate in our houses and suffer through the cold months, but when warmer weather arrives, so does White Trash Bob. Kinda like the swallows of Capistrano...but not really.
And now, I need a shower, followed by a cold beverage and a nice bit of porch-sitting. More about that back yard vision tomorrow, along with the latest photo of the paint. Try to contain your anticipation.