Today, I woke up when the sun reflected off the windows of a nearby building, pretty much blinding me.  Summer is making a last stand.  Our high is an expected 82, but when I look ahead in the forecast, I see rain and temperatures in the 50s.

I can’t wait for the rain.

Rain means cashmere, hats. Most of my wardrobe is some kind of wool.  It means the best holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. It means apples, apples, apples. (I am in Honeycrisp heaven right now.)

It rarely gets really cold here (by really cold, I mean highs in the teens or 20s) and it even more rarely snows, but we may get a day or two like that. Mostly it’ll stay in the 40s or 50s; it’ll be chilly enough for layers, rainboots, and having parks to ourselves, but almost never turning the heat on. (Most of our building has radiator heat — our loft doesn’t, but everyone else stays so warm that we sometimes have to open windows on really cold days.)

Oh, by February I’ll be tired of it, sure. But until then, I have my UV lamp and my Vitamin D supplements, my wool and my new Hunter rainboots.  I’m ready.