End Of Summer….

We enjoyed the last of the summer air conditioning yesterday before switching the mechanism over to heat, closing the windows, rooting through closets for those favourite woolly fleeces and shimmying the heated mattress pad back onto the bed. Just like that, summer is almost over.

We went for our family bike ride tonight after dinner but it wasn’t the same.

There was no warm breeze guiding us to the end of the street where we would visit with neighbours, drive our bikes in circles enjoying the last of the day’s warm sun. There were no neighbours, they were busy adding their storm windows, putting winter tires on their vehicles and bringing indoors those potted plants that likely won’t make it through another cool evening. I think I even saw a company specializing in Christmas lights but I’m going to pretend it was underwater lighting for a pool.

Gone are the sunburn-through-the-window bedtimes. I don’t know when it started to get dark earlier, I just know at some point we were eating lunch with the lights on.

Chloe knew something was wrong the minute we opened the garage to leave for our ride. She started saying, “Shwetter. Shwetter. Shwetter.” At first I started to sing any song I could think of that had a word resembling “shwetter” as repeating a word three times is typically her request to be serenaded, until I realized she wanted a sweater.

Off we went, bike seat straps a little tighter over layers of clothing. She asked for “Twinkle” and I began, “Twinkle, twinkle, little…” but was interrupted with a boisterous “NO!” She had clearly changed her mind, weather patterns can do that to babies and instead ordered, “Happy,” which means “Sing Happy Birthday to me” even though it’s not her birthday and when it comes time to dedicate the song she chimes in, “Happy Birthday dear…” “TOYEEE” and we both giggle although tonight, we could see our breath.

I’ll be buried in boxes of winter scarves, hats and boots that I whimsically tossed due to the promise of warmer weather last May and will now have to force myself to pair mittens and coordinate snow pants with a suitable coat in order to fashion something acceptable for the coming months.

Goodbye fresh berries, corn, Riesling and peaches—wince.

Hello squash soup, bread, Amarone and 20 lbs.

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