May is my favorite month of the year and has been since I was a kid. Those leaves sprout from the trees in the first couple days of May and I'm instantly reassured that I survived the winter and that summer is near. Little League in my youth hit full swing in May. School years ended in May. I met Lori in May. Ben was born in May. This year, the buds on our linden tree kept teasing, but on queue, usually around May 3, they sprout. I'm on my porch writing this, looking at a full tree of leaves, accompanied by the full maple of leaves as well. But May is bittersweet in that if I don't fully appreciate each sunny day, each warm temperature, each spring storm (and last night, we had a doozy, with the weirdest orange sky I've seen here in Utah in 23 years), the month is half over before I make an attempt to fully enjoy it. This May, here I am, on May 15 -- and I'm just getting into the swing of the month. June will be hear before I know it. The kidney stone threw a seriou
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