There is a certain and unmistakable chill in the air. Summer has left us.
Winter is coming.
Goodbye little short shorts. Goodbye sunscreen sweat. Farewell sun visor.
Hello layered jumpers. Bonjour thick socks. Howdy to my running gloves. I can’t say I’ve missed you, but I’m glad you’re back!
I am sick of this rain. This isn’t any old honest rain. This is sneaky rain that falls softly on the roof so that you think it might be safe to go for a quick jog. This is treacherous rain that that promises to clear up in 10 minutes, only to bucket down as soon as you commit to a plan of stepping outside.
Luckily for me, I can now retreat to my recently-completed studio and do a little bit of flinging myself around in the name of fitness. Its not really a studio because I don’t paint… its a woman-cave, a place I can retreat to when the need strikes me. It was planned and started a long time ago, before we had children. Now that it is ready to use, I’m at a little bit of a loss as to what to do with it because my priorities and needs have changed. Also my quota of alone-time-at-home has been greatly reduced from ‘very little’ to ‘none’. I get my alone-time while commuting or at the gym at work, mostly. It saddens me somewhat that I’m not as keen on painting as I was when we conceived the studio, but it gladdens me that I have my own little retreat on a morning like this. I might even take the kids up later and let them mess with my paints.
p.s. I had a terrible dream this morning about going to a race and someone else having my bag and not being able to find it before the race. It ended in a fat accountant giving me a tailor-made purple woollen minidress and $20.
I make the confused face.