It is freakishly and wondrously hot here in Chez Emerson-land. I've been enjoying every second as it can change with the sound of the wind and, 'poof,' it's gone. This time of year is frequently called Indian Summer and a quick lookie into Wiki tells me nearly nothing. I'm certain in these tender and watchful times that phrase will offend someone, somewhere, but that is how I grew up identifying it.
Wiki says: An Indian Summer is a meteorological phenomenon that occurs in autumn, in the Northern Hemisphere. It is characterized by a period of sunny, warm weather, after the leaves have turned following an onset of frost, but before the first snowfall.
I'm not certain why it would offend since it is the most glorious part of the year. The time of year (and we don't get it every year) where the leaves are turned and turning while falling rapidly, the lower stance of the sun totally belies the air temperature, and you will see more than normal convertible activity.
Because, just like spring, fall is a precious time for us Minnesotans and we will squeeze every good day like a juicy lime. Squeeze that baby right into my gin and tonic since I'll soon be drinking scotch and soaking in a tub after eating stew.
You see what I'm saying? Ha!
So, this past weekend Pup and I were scurrying around the manse, working on the many chores and projects that are never-ending when you are a homeowner (do I hear a condo calling me? Hmm? Listen hard!)
Here is what I did.
Uh huh. What.Was.I.Thinking? Whoo ha - ugly is ugly you have to agree.
I keep going places just so I can come home and enjoy how it looks!
*Post title from a novel by Ken Kesey.