The calendar page has been turned. All the bills that I paid in May are coming due again. It must be June.
Right?
But yesterday morning I got up and turned off the air conditioner because the temperature outside (according to the radio) was 60 degrees. That was overly optimistic; it wasn't 60 according to the thermometer in the van when we went to church yesterday morning. A couple hours later, when my wife went to the grocery, she called me because the temperature had dropped to 53.
I'd put on a long-sleeve flannel shirt for Mass, but it did seem a bit chilly to me in the house so I added an Irish wool sweater.
It had been in the high 80s during the week before the rains set in, so there have been some signs of summer, and this is Chicago: We have to expect some variety in the weather. We can get two and sometimes three seasons on any given day.
On Sunday, though, we had only one season. Fall. The sky was slate gray and spitting drizzle and I was wearing flannel and wool -- but it really is June, you know. The calendar says so.
1 comment:
it's hot here now, as you would expect. i love it!
smiles, bee
tyvc
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