Don't know about your part of the world, but mine had no summer to speak of. It seemed like a week and a half, maybe two we had the sort of 80° days one normally thinks of when backyard pools and Weber grills and afternoons spent lounging in a hammock come to mind. This year, if you blinked, you missed those days entirely. (Lesson No. 1...and it is such a hard lesson to learn, isn't it: Seize the day. Or alternatively: He who hesitates is lost. When you find yourself staring out the window at warm and wonderful weather where I live, you'd best go out and enjoy right then and there. Because if you don't, that same weather might not be back tomorrow. Or even stick around the rest of the day. But as you'll read, I'm starting to get this lesson down.) Then this past weekend, any thought that maybe we just might have a late September relapse into sunnier, warmer weather disappeared when a major line of thunderstorms swept through the are bringing with it at least one tornado warning that I know of. So much for all the summery outfits with clogs and sandals to match I had hoped to wear. Time to dust off the fall wardrobe and break out my stock of clog boots. Oh, and maybe start wearing socks again, my most reluctant wardrobe concession to the change in the weather.
Fortunately clog makers have come up with their own solution to falling temperatures: fleece-lined clogs. I can think of a dozen or more different styles that feature a nice, toasty upper tacked to a solid wood base. But the first that popped up online and made me say "Gotta have it!" was this pair from my second favorite clog maker, Mia. Something about that solid chunk of platform under the foot just feels so good when kicking through the fallen leaves on a crisp, cold day. And I'm always a sucker for leather that distresses so beautifully.
(On the up side: last night's storm cell featured a leading edge of near constant lightning. This coupled with the equally near constant growling of thunder in the distance made for a truly awesome light show. I saw it coming in the distance while watching the new Ken Burns series on PBS, then found myself cleaning up in the kitchen as it began to sweep through. As recently as a year ago I would have wrapped up what I was doing before going to sit out on the balcony to watch the display. But I've been burnt by waiting too many times. I simply stopped mid-chore and went to enjoy. And a good thing, too. That dazzling blend of dramatic lightning and foreboding thunder lasted only a few minutes before the rain began to fall and the weather turned to just your common or garden variety storm. If I'd waited to finish whatever seemed so important before, I would have missed it all entirely. Which I guess leads to another alternate version of our lesson for the day: Sometimes you've just got to stop and smell the ozone.)