Not the end of my pregnancy. I still have nine long weeks to go.
Not the end of the political season. We still have nine long weeks to go (yes, I'm due election week).
No, it's the end of the summer heat, and I couldn't be happier. Our dog Mollie and I always perk up this time of year. It's like we come out of our summer heat-induced hibernation and return to life. I'll even willingly leave the house in the afternoons to run errands and sit out in the yard while the kids play.
Don't get me wrong, it's still hot here. We hit 100 degrees on Tuesday for the 50th time this summer, but there is a definite change in the weather. The mornings are cool enough for me to open the windows and let in some fresh air. Campbell and I have been taking Mollie for walks around the block and not coming home drippy and sweaty. Mollie is acting like a spry 10-year-old dog instead of a 13-year-old one.
Summer's back has been broken, and I've survived my 14th year of miserable heat.