Hot Summer Days/Fresh Cherry Tart

On summer nostalgia, summer traditions, summer angst, and summer coping. And gobs of cherries, all of which need pitted, but no big deal.

I’ve always been a summer child. I assume it’s because I was born in June, but maybe I’m overthinking it. (That would be just like me.) I live for the sun. It cannot be too hot. I like the feeling of languishing in the humidity, the way the tempo slows to a crawl, everyone too hot for sudden movement. That’s what I remember from the summers of my childh…