I realized the other day that everytime I have a lemon in my hand, something good is about to happen. Probably will involve ice tea, but not always. I love the sight of lemons, BAM! how bout some yellow to brighten up your day! I love the feel of lemons, firm and solid in the hand, always a perfect fit in my palm. I love the smell of lemons, pressing the skin up against my nose and breathing deep, the tangy smell when the Hot One is shaving peel, or the deep earth sweet smell when cutting into one, like you are standing over the draft of a mineshaft that goes way down into the Good Times Mine. I love the way that too much lemon is a bad thing, but just the right amount makes so many things perfect. I love the feel of squeezing a wedge of lemon into my tea, and then the way that whatever I eat next tastes like lemon cause I got it all over my fingers. I love the spent wedge, held up by ice, bleeding seeds all over the bottom of my glass. I once bet my dad $20 bucks he couldn't eat a lemon. I guess he likes lemons more than me.
