but what i’d rather be doing is… having a nighttime tea party lit by fireflies in jars and stubs of candles stuck in broken crockery. Drag out all the fancy cups and saucers and the bottle of blackberry brandy. Serve almond cookies and whisper wishes and look at the stars and crumbling gingerbread. Pull our holey sweaters and lace shawls close and wait for the sounds of night birds to come out of the twilight. Smell the fleeting whiffs of night jasmine and dew-laden grass.