I love Sunday. Really, just so much. It's very Netflix and Chill for a full 24 hours. Ryan's fishing this weekend, and I kind of feel like I haven't seen him since September because "salmon is a limited engagement, Jennifer." Anyway, my point is that it's quiet, except the sounds of the bay.

That's a lie. It's actually Munson Ave, but I tell myself that the car swish sound is lake water waves. Life is what you make it, folks.

***

I'm sure you've heard from just about every single friggin' person, it's officially fall. I'm not sad about it, but I know in approximately 37 days, I'll be doing dishes or something else completely mundane, staring out the window and imagining summer all over again. Ryan at the grill, dogs losing their marbles over a squirrel in the yard,  me doing something interesting that isn't Netflix because it isn't cold. When I look down at my feet and rue the socks and twelve layers of long sleeves, that's when I'll be sad.

And I'll exhibit some concrete sorrow and think, remember flip-flops? And t-shirts. And summer playlists? 

Sigh.

I say this every year, but I think it's so hard to get into the fall vibe, because this summer was so so so good. But seriously, this one was particularly good.

It was very work hard, play hard. It was boats and beer and grilling every night. It was working late and feeling some career accomplishment. It was being jealous of how tan Ryan gets and turning 27 and getting even tighter with this thing I believe and know to be true -- family is everything.

I usually like to wrap up with accomplishments, but I'm not sure that's what this summer was about for us. I mean, this certainly felt like a very good summer, but not necessarily event heavy. And specifically comparing to the summers before this -- we didn't move and start new lives. We didn't get married. We didn't graduate from college. Those are all things that defined summers before this. This year, we just lived and loved each other a lot and enjoyed each other's company in a place that's progressively starting to feel right.

I mentioned this last time, but we're on the official house finding journey. Which, I maybe didn't mention before, I really don't enjoy. I don't like looking for houses. I don't care to look at houses. I just want to live in one. I hate the detail part. That's not my point, I just get carried away. We finished up all the boring paperwork bank stuff last week, so now we just have to decide on something. And I think that is what will envelope next year.

I'm speculating, but I guess I'm trying to create written reminders for myself that this previous summer is not to be taken for granted. I love so much that we're in this very cool part of our lives where big changes happen fast and monumental, life changing things are on the immediate agenda. It's perhaps not the climax of the book, but it is the build-up and it's fun to know that good stuff is coming, but not know what it is yet. And I guess what makes me so happy for the last few months -- this summer was about establishing the setting. Where it takes place is written, what it is can now commence.

***

Happy Fall, ya'll.