I would write about how much I hate traveling, but love arriving (especially when my Dane comes to pick me up at the airport as a SURPRISE!) except that there is a PHENOMENAL summer storm going on.
I love summer storms.
I am not so big on thunder... but for some reason, when I know I am safe and sound in my home, I can really enjoy it (although as I sit here I keep jumping at every crash and boom).
I'm not the most romantic person I know, but when I was little I used to dress in my mom's nylon nightgowns (you know, the clingy ones) and run around outside in the summer rain while flailing my arms in dramatic gestures. I'd often call out to the cats, having no "lost love" to search for. I was more into the drama than the romance, I think. And I really liked the summer mud between my toes.
I was a weird child.
Now I have the urge to go stand in the rain, barefoot, and laugh at the sky.
But I am totally going to skip the nightgown bit.