This slight change in temperature has kick-started my warm-weather longing.
I am ready for sandals. And sunshine. And shorts, skirts, and tank tops. Not to mention swimming, floating, and eating ice cream in sundresses.
I am especially ready for the way the sun shines through a canopy of maple leaves in the early afternoon during the summer. That sun-in-the-middle-of-the-sky sort of dappled light is one of my favorite things in the world.
In the absence of these things, however, I will be going out this weekend to buy some tan-in-a-bottle. For some reason, I feel like this will console my summer-hungry feelings.
You see, I don't mind being a white, pasty Montanan in the wintertime. But when I get this warm-weather longing, I am no longer satisfied with my ghostly pallor. Since the sun is obviously not providing an adequate amount of toast-age, I will be turning to my local drugstore for some skin color satisfaction. And this will give me just enough of a glow that I will feel at least marginally satisfied. It will be a reminder that summer is coming. And that reminder will be "good enough."
Y'know what else I'll be doing this weekend? Probably making this baked spinach. (I just started exploring Smitten Kitchen, and holy cow, am I enamored.)