The weather this past week or so has been amazing. In the 60s, balmy, sunny ... the very definition of Indian Summer (except significantly later than the norm). Everyone knew that it was just a brief reprieve before real winter set in. I saw masses of Scantily-clad (aka wearing t-shirts) people doing yardwork, walking their dogs, and putting up Christmas lights.
I've heard rumblings that this would end soon, but I had chosen not to 1) listen or 2) check. I didn't really want to know when it would be over. I just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
Well, it's over. Or on it's way out. It's still in the 60s here, but the rain has begun to fall, and the crepuscular sky at 3 o'clock in the afternoon assures me that there's plenty more on the way.
Can you believe we had several days where we didn't have to scrub Beckett's muddy feet every time he came inside? Or that I didn't have to steel myself to get out of the warm bed in the morning, and face the frigid air?
It's my turn to walk Beckett this afternoon, and even if it's raining I'll try to appreciate the warm air. It'll probably be the last time I venture out without being completely bundled until March or so. I've put off the bad weather news for as long as possible, but it's time to face the chill winter wind.