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BY Dana

08/27 Direct Link
The end of summer doesn't hold as much meaning for me now as it once did. When I was a student, the season's end meant the beginning of the school year, and the lazy, halcyon days of summer would be packed up and put away, replaced by books and homework and that clean school smell that never seemed to last more than a week.

Now the end of summer doesn't mark a season of change. I'm a stay-at-home mom, freelance editor, and writer, and my days, though fulfilling, blend, the seasons merging gracefully one into another.