A sure sign of summer:

I have no idea of the date.

Yes, it's true. I haven't known the date for awhile. I've known the day of the week (more or less), but it's the time of year where my brain views a week as a collective amount of time rather than seven discreet units with limited hours in each. Oh, sure, the summer week actually has less workable hours than the rest of the year, and there's an arcane formula involving sunshine, school time, and ice coffee availability that proves this beyond a reasonable doubt, but I'll spare you. The point is simply that blog posting will be bursty, news will be late, observations will related to ice coffee availability, and in general we're gonna sit here and get virtually tan.

And on the plus side, each time I post here, I'll see the date!