We are just coming out of our -- for lack of a better term -- Indian summer here in SF. We pout through the fog of June, July & August and then, if you're me, whine when September and October are just too hot. One year in San Francisco has turned me weak against any kind of extreme weather. And by extreme, I mean high 70s.
To those of you who knew me in a former life, I know this sounds strange. I was the girl who wore sandals 364 days a year and it is still true that my natural element is water. But I like that in this city I can wear TOMS every day with no socks and I won't be too cold, nor will the bottoms of my feet sweat.
And so, I welcome the fall. Another point in its favor is that sleeping in is so much more delicious. There is a level of both discomfort and guilt that wells up in me if the morning sun is shining too brightly through my bedroom window. But rain? It's like a personal invitation to adjust the pillows and enjoy them for several more hours. This, combined with my rare lack of weekend travel plans, makes November Sleeping In Awareness Month.
|Every wellie of the rainbow.|
I've also got myself a shiny new clear plastic bubble umbrella, courtesy of my mom. So, yeah, the future's looking bright. Or, rather, dreary and wonderful. I will leave you with a little fall flavor, courtesy of Pinterest. I don't know about you, but I'm going to go put on some thick socks and read a book.