Ode to Sweater Weather

Oh sweater weather.  I love it dearly.  It has, however, eluded the Gulf Coast, and we are "enjoying" a heat wave in December.  Puke.  How can one properly get into the Christmas spirit when it's 80 degrees outside?!

But seriously, I love sweaters.  I love how they hide the mysterious bulges that are evidence of my love of all things carbohydrates and sugar.  I love how if it is sweater weather, it is also pants weather (one would hope), which means I don't have to shave my legs for three months.  Well, alright-- because I love my husband, I'll do it more frequently than that.  But only for Hband. 

But see, it's not sweater weather here.  I still have to shave my legs every day because-- gag-- shorts are still climate appropriate here.  In rebellion against the Florida weather, I've put all my shorts away in space-saving bags under my bed.  In their place in my drawers are sweaters.  Glorious sweaters that make me sweat like a Siberian Husky unless it is precisely 50 degrees or colder outside.  Beautiful sweaters that, while masking mysterious fat bulges, still somehow make me look like a cardboard box wearing a sweater.

Maybe sweaters aren't so great after all.

Nah, I still love 'em.  But I love sweater weather even more.

xoxo, A