I don't know if it's just me, but August always feels like a funny month.
It's like we're caught somewhere between summer and autumn... and nobody quite knows what season we're supposed to be in.
Here in Scotland, we've still got a couple of weeks of the school holidays left, but the mornings are starting to feel just that tiny bit sharper. Not cold... just enough that you notice it.
Neil and I were chatting over a coffee the other morning, saying how nice it would be if we could squeeze just one more spell of proper summer sunshine out of the year. The last couple of weeks have definitely felt a bit grey, a bit rainy and, if I'm honest, a bit gloomy.
Surely we're due another week of glorious weather?
Please?
What does make me laugh, though, is how quickly the shops seem to give up on summer.
One minute it's deckchairs and ice creams... the next it's pumpkins everywhere, "Pumpkin Spice Everything", and we're apparently supposed to pretend it's October already.
Sorry... I just don't get Pumpkin Spice.
I've tried.
It's just not for me.
Maybe it's because I make candles for a living, but I think we rush the seasons far too much.
We spend all summer looking forward to autumn, then all winter wishing it was spring again.
I'm determined to squeeze every last drop out of this summer before I even think about cosy season.
Our Scottish winters are long enough without wishing them here early.
So, for now, I'm still lighting Sundown in the evenings, Spring Air is making the house feel fresh every morning, and I'm hanging on to those lighter, brighter scents for as long as I can.
And who knows...
Maybe we'll still get that one glorious week where everyone suddenly remembers why we put up with the other eleven months. The barbecue comes back out, the washing actually dries outside, and everybody starts saying, "It's roasting today!" as if we've forgotten what 21 degrees feels like.
I'm choosing to believe it's still coming.
Until then, I'll keep making the most of what's left of summer.
Because before we know it, we'll all be complaining that it's dark by four o'clock.
And nobody wants to rush that.
Jo x
