The days in Tween

This is the time of year that blurs the lines.

It’s officially fall, wants to be winter but sometimes feels like summer. It’s a time of year that can never seem to make up its mind.

I fussed at Jake the other morning for wearing shorts and a jacket to school. That appeared to be out of the dress code of practicality. Or was it?

It was one of those days when we could see our breath by the dawn’s early light, yet by afternoon we would be wiping sweat from our foreheads.

I call it “Tween” because it is stuck in Between.

The day usually starts with frost on the ground. By afternoon we are splashed with warmth. The leaves have been falling to the ground, yet up until two weeks ago I was still plucking tomatoes from my garden. The wrist alternates flipping between the heater and the air conditioner.

The high in Macon on Saturday was a near-record 78. The low last night was 35.

I’m sure we will settle into more typical weather before too long. Who knows? It might even snow this winter.

Then winter will start melting into spring, and we will be right back in Tween.