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OK, OK, it’s been summer for nearly a week now, but that doesn’t stop me from loving on this weather and appreciating every last shred of evidence that, yes, the weather is balmy and delightful.

My indicators it must be summer?

  • I dig out the flip-flops.
  • I roll down the windows AND put on the AC in the car. (Don’t hate, it’s the best.)
  • I plan a trip to the drive-in.
  • I start to plan a trip to Middle of Nowhere, Ohio, which is the halfway point with a friend who lives in the northwest corner of the Buckeye state. We’re looking at an overnighter somewhere: Dinner, drinks and a slumber party.
  • I bust out the ankle bracelet. (But not the toe rings. My second toes get all weird and wide at the tip, so they never fit. It’s like sliding a ring over a knuckle that’s been cracked so many times that you need an 8 to get over the knuckle, but the rest of your finger is only a 6.) (No, my fingers are not like this, but the beau’s are, which made buying a wedding ring tricky tricky.)
  • I try to make sure I eat outside at least once a day.
  • We stop using the stove and start to grill All The Things. (Lesson from last night: Don’t ever grill broccoli. Just … don’t.)
  • Every month has a three-day weekend.
  • Victoria’s Secret has its Semi-Annual Sale. (Don’t even act like you don’t judge the seasons by sales.) (Also, with white tea and sage scent in the “Love My Body” beauty products are where it’s at. You’re welcome.)

Your turn: What are your “It Must Be Summer” stats?

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