late-summer weather that I feel like Chicken Little. No sky is falling yet, good people. In fact nothing is even falling out of the sky, so we've been able to stretch the sleeveless shirts and bocce ball farther than I'd dared to hope.
Still, it doesn't take much to look ahead to the forecast and realize the upper 70s this week will be the lower 60s next (and not so long after that we'll long for the 60s as a reprieve from the 20s). Break out those puffy coats; winter's just a deep breath away.
To honor this last glimpse of summer, I thought I'd celebrate one of my favorite indulgences: eating outside. It doesn't matter if we cook ourselves or pop over to one of our neighborhood spots; al fresco dining is a splendid thing. Never mind the flies and mosquitoes. Never mind the loud music in our alley (which I've realized, if I just hit that tolerance button, is a pretty awesome soundtrack to the meals on our deck). There's nothing better than grabbing a bite as the sun goes down in the distance.
As a final swan song to the season, here's a snapshot of some meals taken right here in the neighborhood, sometimes as close as our very own home. (You'll notice we don't have quite the talent for plating--or medium rare--that some of our local restaurants do).