Fall, For Me

If someone asked me to point out the worst time of the year in New York, I would tell them just about any time in between August and September. This is because as much as I hate the heat of summertime, I hate that awkward stage in between Summer and Fall even more. It’s like a huge tease; mornings are cool and crisp, perfect for jeans and sweaters—and then by noon, we’re sweating through our clothes. Continue reading “Fall, For Me”