I hate August most when it’s pleasant.

That sounds weird, but when it’s hot and humid as hell, it feels like summer will go on forever. The days shorten, Labor Day threatens, but summer prevails.

But when August breaks cool and comfortable, I feel the fall crowding in—not in the atmosphere, but in my head, which is worse. So the utter comfortableness of this August has been a mixed blessing—part treat, part threat. Like they say on Game of Thrones, “winter is coming.”

Which is a circuitous way of saying we had a very fun, very comfortable weekend with friends (the DeGeorges, McKeones, and Harts) in the Poconos. 

Saturday was drizzly, which drove us inside for lots of eating and—something different—game-playing. We also had a TON OF LAUGHS. I haven’t laughed so hard in a long time. Saturday night, we had a great Mediterranean seafood salad and fireworks, which, miraculously, hit nobody.

Sunday was sunny and warm. And short, as we broke camp around midafternoon. It felt a little like the end of summer. Except I keep feeling like summer ended weeks ago. Darn all this comfort!

(Thankfully, tonight is warm and close. Summer lives!)