Maybe it's because we spent this weekend hanging around the house, playing with friends, picking blackberries, getting odd jobs finished, eating just-picked fruits and veggies and then going out for ice cream, going to a birthday party with a bouncy house and a cotton-candy machine.
Maybe it was watching a 38 year-old woman cruise to a gold medal in the women's Olympic marathon, and then a 41 year-old woman win the silver in gymnastics. Or, maybe it was just that I was so ready to hate NBC's coverage and found I couldn't, because it's turned out to be pretty good, with lots of live events and reporting on events that countries other than the USA won (as a former Canadian, I've always complained about how US-centric the Olympics' coverage is here.)
Or, maybe it's the rush I get as I put up another pint of jam, or salsa, or tomato sauce from the produce that's everywhere right now.
The wonderful, summery, pleasantness of it all this weekend was overwhelming; I felt so happy that I thought I might cry.