Do you think that it is odd that I have actual sadness over Labor Day's approach? I am seriously sad about September's arrival and all that it brings. I know that September has lots to offer and I will get in the mood for pumpkin bread and sweaters soon enough, but I am not ready for it now.
I don't want Ellie to go back to school. I don't want to make soup. I am downright depressed to see some of my plants winding down for the season. I wish the temperature wouldn't go down into the sixties at night. I don't know what I am going to do when the pools and beaches close next week. Probably cry a little bit.
I have not had my fill of summer yet.
I still want to eat three meals a day on my porch. I want to lounge in the yard and weed and admire my thriving vegetable garden. I am going to continue to wear flip flops every day and night. I want the baby pool to become a permanent fixture. For the first time in my life, I have a near-perfect tan. Instead of spending dark fall afternoons making muffins, I want to work outside and paint more lovely decorations for the garden (like these masterpieces from my little artists).
Damn you, seasons.