It has taken me 27 years to figure out that yes, summer dresses are designed for summer. For the past 26 years I've been schlepping about in jeans and t-shirts on 40 degree days. I have no idea what I was trying to prove, but hallelujah I have seen the light. I barely noticed the mercury hit 33 today, 'cause I was too busy poncing about in my girly dress and bare feet, and being all, you know, not stinking hot and dying. I'm converted. Some more dresses and slip on shoes and I might even like summer. Pity about my blinding white legs.
Thanks for stopping by Jeff's blog while I trashed it. It went better than I expected, and look! I had no picture for the triumphant little old lady, so the mischievous KJ Bishop drew one:
I think she's adorable. No ninja or pirate could defeat that, not without the spectre of their mother and their mother's mother and their mother's sister and their great-great aunt rising up to haunt them with a vengeance. I love the milk carton, heh. Thanks Kirsten!
Sleep has been coy of late. She relents, eventually, but the nights are getting longer and I'm not seeing much of reasonable hours. It isn't too much of an issue right now, as I'm staring down a barrel loaded with a week and a half of afternoon shifts, but I suspect it will be a long season of sleeplessness.
I need to get back into the practice of making use of these hours. My insomnia muscle is out of shape.