Summer evenings imagined: lounging on the garden bench in the sunshine, wine chilled to perfection, an olive or thirty within reach. There is knitting - perhaps a skirt-in-progress, with neither dropped stitches nor tangled yarn. On the lawn in front of me, children and wildlife gambol endearingly. (No, I didn't say gamble - that would be a bit less charming.) The Stoic Spouse is nearby, being stoic of course. Summer evenings lived: Oh, is it raining again? Never mind, I'll just relax in the Continue Reading