It's really not a summer until you've waded in ankle-deep or higher water. That's why I don't put on any sort of real shoes between mid-May and mid-September. Because you never know when the real summer experience will present itself.
In case you haven't heard, it's August. I'm writing again, hopefully a poem a day. I have also been feeling more "motivated" overall, like making phone calls and stuff. I hate making phone calls (to strangers) unless I am giving them good news. I wish I could do that every day!
Sorry, right now I'm being totally distracted listening to This Mortal Coil via Spotify. It's like all my disappeared cds are back on my shelf. I do not recommend this if you dislike flashbacks to 1991 (or 1984, if you were cool/born).
When I was a kid I thought it was undertoe. I swam in Lake Michigan a lot. Nobody corrected me. It was just a much simpler time.