Later and Later

I read somewhere, who knows where (probably a meme or something), that we lose 70 minutes of sunlight during August. That's more than an hour, Captain Obvious tells me.

It does seem as though September is a much different month than August. Maybe that's why. They're both still Summer, September until the 21st anyway, yet the one does feel much more autumnal. August sets it up by giving time away. What's up with that, August?

My morning walks have to start later and later. Boo, hiss. I like being out before 6 but it's becoming less of an option. 

Yeah, slow news day. Quiet Ron.

A Blog Before I Walk on a Saturday

We're now a few days past Labor Day. This time of year it's hard to believe that it's still summer; psychologically, Labor Day seems to end it.

Things must really feel different for the schoolkids. Here in Michigan public schools by law can't start until after the holiday. It's the state's way of trying to wrest a final tourist weekend out the populace. Kind of cruel to the children though, isn't? Have a great weekend kiddies! Start school immediately after! At least for us adults (although I wonder at times how many of us actually qualify as that) it's simply more of our adult world going on on Tuesday like it did the Friday before.

I don't miss school one lick, and I went back when we were expected to learn real stuff with real value. But that rant is for another time. 

Have a great weekend! It's the second to last of Summer, you know. Even if it feels like Fall.

Short sighted

One of the nice things about Saturday (even when I still need to put in a few hours at the Shop) is that I can take my walk later. Yesterday I wasn't out the door until almost 8; 6:30 is more typical because work starts earlier Monday through Friday. It was also 66 degrees above Fahrenheit, positively balmy for October. I wore shorts and a tee shirt.

This was a conscious decision on my part. 66 and with a light breeze blowing meant it was likely to be the last day this year I could dress as though it were still summer. I meant to take advantage of that. 

This morning it's projected to be 51 by eight AM, cool enough that sweats and a hoodie are sure to be the suit of the day as I traverse around Woodbridge. Yesterday was surely the last hurrah: after going through the wash, the short pants won't see the light of day again until, maybe, April. The long cold winter has begun.