Bad at Summer

It’s been a productive summer so far. But, on days like today, wherein my most significant accomplishment has to do with a bagel and the eating thereof, I wonder if I’m really appreciating the season enough while it’s here. At this very moment, my husband is in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, hiking and camping and probably finding cool arrowheads or something. Me…well, I already told you about the bagel thing.

I want to love summer. I really do. I want to want to hike, but every time I try I end up:

a) crying quietly

b) hyperventalating

c) never finding cool arrowheads

This might be heresy, but I just can’t wait for the fall. I love the crisp air, the feeling of renewal, the urge to go to Staples…it’s all kind of magical. And then there’s Halloween, and all the Halloween specials on TV, and kids dressed up like Buzz Lightyear. It’s where I’m meant to be. We also live in a very tree-ish area of the world which lights up gorgeously in October.

Until then, I’m going to try to scout out all the good farmers markets and fairs I can (bonus points for live farm animals. Double bonus if you get to pet a pig.) and try not to wish the summer away.

Phew…it started raining.