Archer and Jackson play in Jackson's water table
And I feel fine
Better than fine, in fact.
This week marks the beginning of the end of summer: my favorite time of the year. When the sun cools and there's a nip at night and air-conditioning can be replaced with fresh-air through the windows and an open sunroof and a playground slide that isn't 567,000 degrees.
When wardrobe is not limited to wife-beaters and jeans, and this years flip-flops hit the trash and knit hats and scarves and jackets are almost wearable again. Almost. (I mean, it's never really cold here but a girl can't ignore Fall fashion, even if the rain hates to fall here and snow doesn't even know Los Angeles exists.)
Today I wore a sweater. And closed-toe shoes. And it was perfect. And Archer wore his babylegs as arm-warmers under his tee-shirt.
Around here, there isn't really a proper "end" to summer. It's kind of our permanent season. So we don't have to bid adieu to splashing water tables and ducking into the only available shade. Not really.
Well, maybe a water table in winter is a little bit much. Regardless, the time has come to say goodbye to the rabid sun and the sand that finds its way onto everything all summer long, and hello to Halloween-costume planning and long shadows to dance upon. Three cheers!
A happy ending to a seemingly endless summer. Farewell ye multiple-showers a day. So long, heat rash. Goodnight hairbrush. Goodnight mush. And the old woman whispering hush. Etc. Etc. The end.
Meanwhile @ Straight From the Bottle: Cool kids know about pollution. Like, duh!