Even Lydia, with her limited knowledge of meteorology and seasons, commented as we left the grocery store that it was already nighttime. "No Sweetie, it's morning, but the dark clouds make it seem later than it is." Or, like the day just never really started.
Sunday afternoon the sun glinted off the golden leaves as they danced in the breeze. The shade was a bit chilly, but sitting in the sun was toasty; I was almost tempted to cast off my sweater. Norah even rode her scooter to school and back wearing shorts and a t-shirt, shaking off my suggestion to grab a wrap. The last vestiges of summer were enough to keep us warm.
But not today. Today I sit wrapped in a scarf and I'm waiting for the kettle to whistle, needing a warm mug to thaw out my fingers. If my to-do list was done, I'd snuggle on the couch under my down blanket and read a bit, my feet buried in slippers. Maybe even doze off. It's that kind of day. The kind where the only glow comes from the lamp in the living room, turned on at 2 o'clock in the afternoon and doing its best to cast off the gloom of a pending winter.
Fall is giving up and snow is predicted for Wednesday.
That's right, Winter, I boo you. I'm not ready for bundling and layering, for boots and scarves and hats, for scraping windshields and shoveling sidewalks. I'm not ready to plow through snow on our way to school or feel the biting cold on my nose and cheeks.
Boo to you, Winter. At least give us some sunshine. yawn...
Maybe I was a little hard on Winter. In fact, my husband would gently remind me that I booed Summer just a few months ago. "I can't handle this heat. I don't want anyone to touch me; we just stick together, such sweaty kids. I can't wait to wear clothes again." It would appear that I have an issue with contentment. So, boo to that, too!
333 words inspired by the word boo: (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly