BRRRR!

When I went out for my walk this morning it was 49º with a decidedly crisp wind off the water. Yes, yes, I know…that’s really not cold at all. In February, 49º will feel like a damn heatwave. Sure, but in late September, when 70º dawn temps are NOT a distant memory, 49 feels frigid. 

Fer fuck’s sake, I had to don socks this morning! I haven’t worn socks in almost half a year.

My pals Jenny and John will be visiting from Phoenix next weekend. It’s 99º there this morning—50 degrees more than I’ve got on hand here right now. Mind you, I’m in no way envious of their overabundance of heat…not at all. I’m just concerned that, while here, they’ll turn into popsicles.

Next weekend’s weather report for Valhalla is predicting temps near 60 with rain. Totally seasonal.

I know I’ll adjust to the autumn weather. Putting away my shorts, tank tops and sandals always inspires a whiff of melancholia though. At the same time, I get to break out my new cozy sweaters, groovy embroidered jackets and tie dye socks. (LOVE my tie dye socks!)

I’ll adapt. The good—ULTRA good—aspect of autumn 2022? I’m not in the hospital or Spaulding Rehab as I was in 2020 and 2021. YEA! Maybe, with my improved (if not wholly up to snuff) walking abilities, I’ll even get to do some leaf peeping this year.

Even Cake's chilly this morning and he's rocking a fur coat!