Summer is going out with a bang, but it is indeed going.
It seems almost impossible on a day like today, when it was the high 20s all day and punishingly humid to boot, to think that winter will soon be upon us.
Nevertheless, all the signs are there: this morning was thick with mist; the orchard smells like a giant vat of cider as our pears rot down; it’s almost dark right now, at nearly 9pm; and horror of horrors, today we had our fuel oil delivery (which was, thank God, cheaper than last year due to a drop in the oil price last week).
Today, therefore, I took the opportunity to give a favourite dress – my magenta vintage cotton by Jean Chancal – one last outing for lunch with the girls. It probably won’t be warm enough again to wear it this year, though today, to be honest, it was so sweltering I could have done with something a bit thinner.
The rest of the clothes I’ve been washing this week will probably find themselves put away rather than being worn again: the floral and deconstructed linen dresses from Per Una; the short-sleeve teeshirts; the two-layer cotton chiffon gypsy skirt; the viscose Thai trousers. Kept out will be the cotton knits and wrap Boden dresses – good for another few weeks yet before the temperature suddenly plummets and I’m back in my Five Seasons thermals.
Oh la. Talk about summer’s lease hath all too short a date. As every year, it seems like only yesterday I was unpacking it all, grateful to see the back of winter…