Fever!

I am a summer baby after all. I have the most stubborn case of spring fever, which is ridiculous, I know (I live in Los Angeles, three miles from beach and here it is beautiful all year). But perhaps it’s my crazy work schedule this week or the fact that I am getting sick of these boots of mine. But I want…

I want

Toes in the sand, salt on skin

Warm strolls through the farmers market, where I might brush past sweaty runners and spandex-clad bikers

Where I might buy a bunch of wild flowers and lilies

Where they might sit on my kitchen table next to grapefruit and lemons

I want

Glowing skin, graced by the western sun

To hit golf balls with an ocean view

To see the sails in the distance, small triangles in the horizon

I want

A colorful collection of flip flops and pretty painted toes

Simple sundresses, feminine and loose and comfortable like skin

Deep slumbers and long naps with the windows wide open

I want

Margaritas to the sound of the waves

Tacos (enough said!)

Drives with the windows open up the PCH to Malibu

Wine tasting ventures into the sultry hills north of Los Angeles