From my office window, I see perfect pictures of summer: boys flying kites, fields swaying in the breeze, deep blue skies hinting of summery days at the beach.
I remember my ice-candy summers: school-less days that also meant bottles of anti-lice shampoo. And battles with the neighborhood boys.
I remember the bahay kubo in the old backyard. It was my world for three summers--the awkward summers between The Bobbsey Twins and Gabby Concepcion. It was there, under the shade of the aratiles tree, where my sisters and I read Tagalog komiks on the sly, where we listened to afternoon dramas over AM radio, where we did nothing but play and sleep and play some more.
I could use a lot more sleep. And a lot more play.
But there's work to do. There are papers to review, and the clock on the wall says it's still three hours short of the weekend.