summer evenings

After a full month of raging heat and crushing humidity, the sudden drop in temperature is giving me whiplash. I’d been lusting after fall, but now that I’m shuffling around in wool socks and drinking hot cocoa before bed, I’m feeling a little melancholy. Maybe I wasn’t quite as ready for summer to be over as I thought?

We still have some summery things to wrap up. I haven’t done any sweet corn yet, and I want to do another couple batches of salsa. Also, I didn’t quite get my fill of ice cream experiments, or summer evening visits with friends.

There’s something so relaxing about sitting on the porch with friends while the sun disappears behind the ridge and the dark closes in. When the cool air tickles bare arms, I fetch candles and a few throw blankets. The twinkle lights click on and conversation meanders. The shadows obscure the dirty dishes cluttering the picnic table. It grows later, and then later still.

Once again friends are coming over tonight, so today I’m making groundnut stew and nectarine galettes, and thinking about how many more friend-filled, porch-sitting evenings I can wring out of summer.

Want to come over?

This same time, years previous: physical therapy, the quotidian (8.17.20), a bloody tale, a little house tour, the Peru post, a new room, miracle cat, kale tabbouleh with tomatoes and cucumbers.