September in Cincinnati

Ah, late September. 

That time of year of leaves starting to think about turning, of pumpkins and chrysanthemums, of the noises of Saturday afternoon JV football games that waft in the air from the middle school a few blocks away. 

That wonderful time of year when the harvest comes in and the grass begins to have that older, more mature look to it and the Halloween superstores begin their big sales push.

That glorious time of year when the temperatures are, you know, in the 90s and the melodious hum of your neighbor’s air conditioning running is eventually drowned out by the gentle purr of your own air conditioning albeit later on in the day since you open your windows during the morning to get at least SOME of the cooler morning air in and your garden is gasping, gasping, because it hasn’t REALLY rained since May but you refuse to water it anymore because IT’S the FREAKING END OF SEPTEMBER, PEOPLE, and it should not be in the 90s in SEPTEMBER and you should not have to WATER YOUR GARDEN in SEPTEMBER!

Stupid September.  In Cincinnati.


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