The best days lie between summer and fall, when the weather is brittle and lovely and the nights are starting to frost. Wake up shivering and go looking for that mid-weight wool blanket, that favorite light quilt.
Start thinking about which hot tea to drink (peppermint vanilla) while watching Jacques and Julia wax rhapsodic about how to debone a chicken. Sip, contemplative, and know that you will never in a million years be able to replicate what they do.
The air is stuck between the heaviness of summer and the crispness of fall. The smell of dying leaves is inescapable.
Don't have a Halloween costume picked out, but know you'd better get on that or it's going to be another "I'm an extra from a CW show?" mishmash of things malingering in the closet. Add another mental note to the towering stack, all identical moments in mind that hold just one word: Declutter.
The days are so lovely that the evenings feel hollow. Borrow some cool from Sinatra and Jobim and keep going.
Fall is obviously the best season, but these limbo days are my favorite.