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Dear husband, you know how sometimes we wish that we’d known each other growing up? Well, after watching you and Jonny with the racetrack last week I’m pretty sure I know exactly what your adolescent years were like. Dear July, although it goes against everything I am to wish summer were upon us again — this year you can’t come fast enough. I’m so stinking excited to re-visit my old stomping grounds and see my leetle brother! Dear blogging world, please tell me I’m not the only person who photographs food outside. I’m pretty sure my neighbors think I’m crazy. Dear Susannah, you do NOT need to say “mommy” 46 times in a row without giving me a chance to answer. It’s just not necessary. Dear Ang, come live next door to me. I need you to. And my hairs need you to.