I put on a pair of handknit socks yesterday. Summer’s just about over. If the forecast is correct, we’re likely to have another couple of eighty degree days, but cool weather comes quickly around here.
It’s been a pretty excellent summer, and I’m not ready for it to end. Not that I’m a huge fan of high temperatures, but two years in Minnesota has not been enough to acclimate me to having to wear a sweater for two thirds of the year. I’m not sure anything will be enough to acclimate me to that. No matter my preferences, Thursday is laundry day, and it’s going to be the last wash my summer dresses are going to see until next May.
I shan’t let my apprehension ruin the enjoyment of what I’ve had this past season.
Katy was diagnosed with a mast cell tumor in May, but she’s still trucking along. Other than a big pink lump on her face, she’s her perfectly normal, crazy self. She did have a seizure last month, but the vet said that there’s no reason to believe it’s related to the tumor. With a cat her age, it could be any one of a dozen things. She’s still feisty with Bucket and eating like a champ. Immortality cat? Only time will tell…
As is traditional, it was ridiculously hot. So much so that I couldn’t even enjoy the classic fair food binge. I kept seeing my friends posting these impressive “what did you eat at the fair” lists, but all I managed was half a cannoli, a small shaved ice, and one single, solitary, mini doughnut. I’ll have to do better next year.
Gwen won a ribbon for her Fiddlehead Mittens, and I won another in my series of photos of Gwen pointing at things.