Who doesn’t love sunny? Here in New England, we cherish it. We long for it. We pine for it. The window is small for sunny here. Most of the time we are battling. Battling the weather, battling the traffic, battling each other. I swear this place is taking years off of my life just by being so arduous a place to live. Then why am I here you ask? That is a good question. I guess it has to do with family ties that bind and all that and the pure fact that this is where la familia landed when they came over from Italy. If they had gone all the way to California, I would be there. (she says wistfully) But I’m not there I’m here and while I’m here I may as well make the most of it. I did leave. For a long time. But for whatever reason, we all come back to Massachusetts. It’s like there’s some strange pull. The ocean. The foliage. The Red Sox. I don’t know what it is but it pulled me back and here I am, typing and looking out my window, grateful for this sunny June day.