It is warm, moist, fruit is in season and I am wearing summer clothes.
And it is November 4th.
November is chilly, red boot and scarf weather. I would have mud on my jeans from getting in and out of our dirty car. I would be making myself hot tea (I guess I do that here too). I would be putting on my smart wool and making pumpkin soup or a crock pot roast. I would be watching feathery flakes fall from the sky on to the field outside my window as deer found safety in our pasture. I would be bundling up my children and telling them they need to go play outside for "at least 10 minutes." I would be stoking a fire in the fire place in the morning and sweeping up ashes and twigs around the harth.
But I am hot. I am drinking fruit juice. My face is greasy and weird. I am letting my baby just wear a diaper. I am eating mango and avacado. I am wearing a skirt and chacos... still in November. I am listening to a parrot or bird sing "coo- coo- coo". I am craving pumpkin soup. I am thinking, "Where am I? This is November!"
I realize I might be the ONLY person in the world (or north of the equator) that is wanting to have fall/winter... but that is me.
I just can't wait to put on my red boots.