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the weather

The thing that you tend to forget, living in Seattle trying not to notice the gloomy June, is the shiny bauble of September waiting at the end to redeem the summer and make you willing to tolerate the coming winter. I ended an incredibly lazy weekend by putting on shorts, a sweater, and sunglasses like a tourist and lugging a stack of unread New Yorkers to the park to read about Cindy McCain, Marc Jacobs, and Santiago Calatrava until the sun went from blinding to below the horizon. I have a feeling though that I've acquired the beginnings of a cold, but if I went for some coffee soon I might not fall asleep too early.


I spent the weekend in my old man sweater reading the New Yorker because I do have a cold. I did manage to watch the sun rise and sun set every day this weekend not only because of my cold but also Seattle's September weather.