It's a grey day.
There have been hovering clouds and a brisk wind tapping 'round all day; awhile ago it began (finally) to rain, plonking down on the windows and sending a chill through the house. I abandoned my plans for penne and instead made chicken chili - the aroma is eddying and every once in awhile the kids (or the dog - he's always hopeful about such things) will raise their heads and take a big sniff, wondering if dinner will be early tonight.
It's the sort of day where you use warm home-food to disperse the cold and push away the vague nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, you should think about putting a little fire on. Not for heat, as there's just a nip, a hint, a portent of days to come, but as a way to make the greyness....disappear.
A good day for finding something new for the children to do (because without it they will quarrel and scuff like bear-cubs trapped in their den) and a good day to begin thinking about switching out summer togs and bedding for the heavier stuff.
Thinking about. I have no doubt we've a few good indian summer days left.
Today, though, it's too easy to feel the end of them, and to begin to think about what we need to do before winter begins in ernest.