In the bleak

Today was the first day in five or six months that I have worn long sleeves. I've flirted with three-quarter sleeves several times in the last few weeks. But today, the sleeves came all the way to my wrists. I suppose that means that the weather has started to turn.

If only the turn had been in the direction of those brisk, smoky autumn days that make the world stand out in sharp relief. But no -- it was because of a cold drizzling mist that occasionally condensed into outright rain showers. The sun made no appearance, and the temperature stayed in the fifties. That's no time to pretend that you're in between seasons. It's the moment when layers begin to seem like a good idea.

I've been enjoying the cool mornings lately -- gives me a chance to break out the woolly accessories and plan sweater knitting. But this wasn't the kind of day that makes you want to swath yourself in cozy knitwear and stroll through autumn's glory. It was the kind of day that chases you inside no matter what you're wearing.

After returning from church at lunchtime, all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and make progress on a scarf or a vest. Instead I started and ripped, started and ripped, dissatisfied with size or fabric. I headed out midafternoon and pinballed from office to drive-through to church and back again, struggling with umbrellas and feeling both rushed and chilled. It's an apt start for what promises to be a wet and crowded week whose routine threatens to be crowded out by deadlines and special events.

If I can make it through to Friday, though, I'll be rewarded with two days of birthday bliss ... before Noel leaves town. It's not just the start of colder, grayer weather. It's midterm. One word signifying simply that your time is not your own.