February 27, 1990 | Age 12 | Tacoma
Dear Diary,
"Don't fret" said today, "summer is coming. Here, let me show you." And showed did for before me spread a crisp noise-tingling hint of summer day. Complete with a clear view of the Olympic Mts. and Narrows, a brilliant blue sky revealing a sleepy sun, just woken from her wintery slumber.
Even the Early Blooms of purple hue waved restlessly in the refreshing breeze. For they and all, with eager anticipation, could feel Summer in their views, as Winter packed her clouds and frost in her icy bags. Ready to bid her fare well.
*
I always write this entry last. And what I wrote [above] is not at all what I planned.
Oh dear, Twelve. You seem to have gotten your seasons mixed up. I'm sure you'll figure it out. Best, Thirty-Three
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