I’m sitting on my balcony, enjoying the loveliest summer breeze. For once, it’s not humid as all get out. The sun is shining, but I don’t feel like it’s trying to kill me today. Yes, it seems sitting through that crazy storm at the beginning of the week, tornado warning and all, was worth it. They took the humidity away.

Of course, something happened while I was riding out Monday’s storm, watching the lights flicker and listening to thunder that shook our apartment building.  

But something about the storm and the sweaters did it.
 

Yup.

I even made a pot of tea to sip during the storm. I started wondering how the pumpkins were coming along over at my sweetie’s house, even though I had checked on them the day before.  

During the summer, I usually start my day by heading out to my balcony to gauge the weather and greet the day. It was cool and windy out. Crisp even. I ate my breakfast on the balcony wearing a sweatshirt.

As I ate my oatmeal (See? I told you I got bit.), I had to have a firm discussion with myself. 
 

Not only is it August, but it’s still the beginning of August.

The kids aren’t even back in school yet.

I want to know if any of you have also been bit by the fall bug.

Because here’s what starts happening in my garden when I’m ready for fall. I start looking at all those vegetables I couldn’t wait for back in the spring, and instead, I start thinking about pick-your-own apples and fresh pressed cider. All those salads I’ve been enjoying, filled with fresh vegetables, suddenly feel a little tired. I start thinking of rich butternut squash soup, roasted delicata squash with goat cheese and steamy mugs of tea in the darkening afternoon and…
 

This is why I had to have a firm discussion with myself. I needed a reminder about how long the warm weather lasts around here, when our first expected frost date is, how hot the apartment would be if I turned the oven on and how all those jars in the pantry still need to be filled.

So today, I’m sitting on my sunny balcony, wearing shorts and planning to can some dill pickles. Because if I wander back into the house and linger too long where it’s a bit dark and cool, I’ll start to hear the call of those sweaters again.

And it’s only August.