The weather keeps surprising time and time again. Curmudgeonly as I have become, I am still puzzled. It is raining cats and dogs for days, but the temperature has dropped today. Although it is mid-June already, it feels like late March or early April at the latest. The rain that has been missing for months is upon us with a vengeance. God only knows how the upcoming summer will be like. Summer? I have long figured out that nothing will be as expected any longer, but my expectations keep pestering me nonetheless. If only I had no idea of the date. Or memories of so many years that have struck me as just to my taste as far as seasons are concerned. Once again, I find myself envying the dumb animals. Lucky beasts. Seasons, what seasons?