Strawberry Moon

Summer solstice. longest day of the year, and it's just long enough. What if every day were this long? would we need more sleep, or would we figure out what to do with more hours?

it's the strawberry harvest moon, so we have strawberries and whiskey after Iron City, and everyone has been so kind, we can't say thank you enough. How do you say thank you when you can't say it anymore, but you still mean it?

Sewanee faces and Alabama faces and old faces and young faces and feeling "as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, as sweet as strawberry wine." We have whiskey and wine, and strawberries. We smooth and sweet.

We've said no to passive aggression and yes to IPA. No to forgetting ink pads and yes to CDs. Yes to paint and no to brushes. No to being thoughtless, yes to being mindful. No to insecurity, yes to intention. No to awkward transitions, yes to explanations. We are doing this thing because we are, but we don't really know why. we're figuring out why. Does anyone know why? You tell me. Why?