Fall's more than a month away. Why am I seeing "End-of-Summer" stories and stuff?
I know the poor kids have to go back to school in August (and it's a good thing that wasn't the law when I was in grade school or I'd have found some way to go postal. I'd still be in San Quentin, marking X's on the wall in my childish handwriting).
I really don't need to be reminded of fall clothing, if you don't mind. I've got boots and scarves and hats; don't need to see Old Navy ads.
Nor do I particularly want to look at any swimsuit sales. It's been a bit brisk, meteorologically, this season, and goosebumps in my backyard? Not a lovely sight.
I'll tell you what's a lovely sight in my backyard. I have two eggplant babies, starting to grow. It looks like I will have several ripe tomatoes in about a week.
The tomatillos and the pattypan squash were complete duds.
But, we have cucumbers. Crispy, slicy cukes, needing nothing more than a dash of liquids from the condiment shelf.
I'm huddled out there, my fleece pulled up to my ears, snacking on those munchy tubes. Pretending it's still summer.