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If you have never spent time in a hammock, you are missing a big piece of joy. Come the first warm days of spring, the hammock gets hung, I dress it with comforters, burrow deep in and just breathe. I wait all winter for this ritual. I wait all winter to come home. And then I spend every free waking moment swinging in my nest with my ever present book of the week in hand.

I remember when I was pregnant with Michael, I spent so much time in my hammock that I was swaying when I laid down in bed at night. Kind of like when you hit dry land after you have been on a boat all day. And guess where I was when Yale Infertility called to tell me that I was MOST DEFINITELY pregnant with Brooke? Yup - swinging in my hammock on my birthday, June 21st - the best gift, huh?? I read in my hammock, talk on the phone in my hammock, text in my hammock, eat in my hammock, yell at my kids in my hammock and sometimes I even drift off to sleep in my hammock. Oh, and I also have Sunday afternoon cocktails...IN? Yup - my hammock.

Some years, my hammock season extends as far as November. I just pile on another blanket and slide deeper. I definitely go through a grieving period every year when it's time to take the hammock down. But for now? It's August. And even though everyone is complaining that the summer went so fast and they can't believe it's almost Labor Day, I smile - because I know it ain't over, till it's over. I'm home for a good two and a half - three months still. Joy - just waiting for me on the front porch...