The garden has taken on its late summer variegated greens and purples and started to brown a little bit at the edges, like my mood. It's still lush but the bugs are finally taking their toll and in a few weeks, I'll run out of steam and give up the good fight. There is a season, turn turn turn. By late August, I'll be pricing the potted mums. I'm a weather ingrate is what I am.
Mission daughter has returned while camp daughter has departed. The girls used to both go to camp the same week but that led to me roaming the house running my hands across the furniture and staring forlornly out the window. One gone at a time is better.
On a positive note I'll say that a perk of long, warm evenings that don't drive us under our comforters at 7pm is that we have whittled down our summer TV to-do list in record time. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 of The Wire finito. Oh Stringer, you gorgeous thug.... I'll miss you.
The most damning evidence of my summer fugue state may be that not only did Chip and I don identical t-shirts and green khaki shorts today, unknowingly until running into each other late morning, neither one of us bothered to change. Yep, went about our day together in matching outfits and actually kind of forgot about it. Not weird or sad at all.