Everything is Changing

I have never lived anywhere but in New England. I don’t know how the seasons change in other places, but I know that here, in New England, it’s an overnight difference.

All your windows are open, every room has a fan, and you plan your day according to the heat index. Humidity is as high as it’s ever been, and it justs zaps any energy that you thought you might have had. The kids play outside and come in all muddy from the dirt mixing with their sweat. You long for beach days…

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Then you wake up one morning, shivering. You run around the house shutting all the windows and turning off the fans. The girls come out of their rooms wearing shorts and flip flops. You send them back for long pants, socks, and sneakers. Then you notice that some of the leaves on the trees have started to turn. Just like that, summer is over.

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Fleeces and hoodies, thermals and socks, are all pulled out of storage totes and put back into the dresser drawers. Because this is New England though, you don’t put the summer things away just yet. Any day now we could get a glimpse of summer again, an Indian summer. A few hot days in a row that make you question if the cool days actually happened. So the hot weather clothing and the fans and such can’t be put away just yet. We are in summer limbo.

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Meanwhile, the fall activities are beginning. Apple picking. and fairs, soccer and football, hayrides, bulb planting and leaf peeping, and everything pumpkin. It’s time to clean up the yard and put away the outside toys. Even your menu changes from hamburgers and salads to chowders and stews.

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Even the animals know what’s coming. Spiders and mice are looking for warm places to be, and apparantly think my house is it!  The cats are on full alert and have already caught a couple of uninvited guests. I’ve heard more in the walls a few times so they’ll be keeping busy I suspect. Everyone, (three cats and a cocker spaniel) have begun to shed their light summer wear for their warm and cosy winter coats, which makes my house one big fur ball.

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(This is them resting up for the nightly hunts.)

Then one day you’ll awaken to that nasty 4-letter word on the ground – SNOW – and we’re on to the next season.

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Mark Twain once said, “If you don’t like the weather in New England now, just wait a few minutes.” He sure hit the nail on the head!

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