Weather’s been doing its usual tango-merengue between hot and cold.
I tell myself that time goes by faster around this time of year, end of October. November zips by, solid block of cold, fades around the middle. December’s usually quick, submerged in work, two weeks of wrapping things up in cold tired bows of maybe-nostalgia.
Then the feeling of surprised triumph that things are done, that it’s been yet another half of a half (of a half of half) that’s passed.