Woof

Happy August! We're smack dab in the middle of the Dog Days of summer, according to Wikipedia, although the Farmer's Almanac says they run from July 3 through August 11. So we're almost done! We should be experiencing the hottest temperatures of the year now, and the least amount of rainfall.

Not. Happening.

But there's NO SUCH THING AS CLIMATE CHANGE. /snort/

Mind you, I'm certainly not complaining. The cloud cover and sprinkles are keeping the heat down, thus reducing the need for air conditioning. In fact, I'd probably have the house opened up if it weren't for the humidity.

I am getting a little weary of the morning fog, however. Day after day after day I wake up hoping for clear skies, and day after day after day I'm greeted by a thick grey mist hovering over the hayfield to the west and the mountains to the east.

Why am I weary? Because my preference is to walk in clean, clear air, rather than the thick, moist atmosphere the fog creates. BUT: It's simply a preference. I haven't died yet, and I'm still finding photo opportunities to post on Facebook and Twitter. How many ways can you shoot a grey landscape?

I'm learning there are many. Seven in July alone!

Boring old black wrought iron chairs transformed! Aren't they fun?

My son and granddaughter are visiting this weekend. They have gone camping the last couple years toward the end of summer break, and this year decided Camp McNeer was the destination. The weather earlier this week was dandy for sprucing up the campground yard. We painted some chairs, added a fire pit, and had hoped to stain the picnic table. Until it started raining. I'm thinking now we're just going to put tablecloths on the table top AND seats and call it done.

Because we're flexible like that.

We'll be roasting wieners and making S'mores and catching fireflies. We're going hiking to a nearby waterfall Saturday morning. The offspring will be sleeping in a tent in the yard. My husband has already declared he will never be sleeping in a tent, anywhere, and my idea of roughing it is an un-air-conditioned cocktail lounge. (That's what a friend of my dad's used to say, and I think it's the perfect definition, even for a non-drinker.)

Weekend fun might mean not losing that half pound this week to get to my wedding weight mini-goal. Then again, a lot of the fun will be active and moving. Fun is not always about food. (In fact, I'm trying to make fun never about food – a difficult transition and definitely the subject of a future blog post.)

As for the weight loss, I will say again that this primal/paleo way of eating is the first plan I've followed where I feel almost completely confident that I will get to both the mini-goal(s) AND the eventual, long-term, rest-of-my-life, maintainable weight.

That's HUGE, especially coming from someone who has spent the past 50-plus years trying to get there. (I went on my first diet when I was 11.)

And now, in order to further my progress toward said goal(s), it's time for breakfast and then … a walk in the fog.