Can I handle the seasons of my life?

This weekend we had a good mix of weather. Friday night Mike and I went out for drinks and shawarma with his old high school English teacher who almost feels like our age. We hung out on the patio at The Field, ate our roll ups on the benches in Central. Saturday we primed the dining room chairs that we're redoing then headed to the park for a picnic, some naps, and speedminton. My cheeks were pink by the time we came home and enjoyed a feast of fried rice, shumai, and lumpia. We fell asleep pretty early on the couch, intertwined and tired from the sun. Sunday was a nice rainy day. We went to Frank's steakhouse on Mass Ave for a celebratory dinner with Mike's family, then wandered Davis Square until the rain drove us back home for tea, mini banana bread muffins, and more Awake. I love shows that make you wonder, How can this possibly keep going? 


Next weekend, Mike and I are in Ludlow. I just spent ten minutes looking up pick-your-own strawberry farms in Western Mass, but alas the season hasn't officially started yet so it may have to wait. The rain has abated for now, but my toes and fingers are still chilled from the return of seasonable weather. It's only Tuesday and I'm ready for the weekend again. I'm sensing a pattern.