By the end of August, I can't take it anymore. The bright yellows, corals, pure whites, light greens of my summer wardrobe annoy me. Like the seasonal turning over of ponds, Labor Day weekend is my signal to switch out my clothes.
I admire those folks who can wear black year round. For me, it is a heat magnet, something I avoid during the eighty-degrees-and-above spring and summer weather of central Texas. Menopause hasn't helped, either, so why court disaster in the form of armpit circles and sweat dripping down my back?
Yes, September still sees its share of higher temps in this area. It also brings me back to the library in all of its air-conditioned glory. I am allowed to indulge in my fantasy of fall-like weather inside its walls, despite the sizzling pavement in the school parking lot.
My husband nicely brought in two tubs from the garage, filled with clothes I haven't seen since last March. Shopping from my own stash is so rewarding, especially when I'd forgotten I owned half of what I unpacked! I was proud of myself as I sent three dresses to the donation pile after trying them on; they just didn't suit me anymore.
My corals and yellows packed away in the tubs, I now delight in the browns, blacks, grays, rusts, olives, and deep jewel tones of fall and winter. They will last until spring break--and then I'll be yearning for my bright colors once again.
|CSIRO [CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons|