Hubby Bryan always starts feeling a bit sick to his stomach when he hears the roar of the motorcycles on Interstate 90 at his workplace in Worthington’s Industrial Park.

It’s not the motorcycles that make him queasy. He used to ride one himself. It’s what they signal. He knows when the Sturgis Rally is over, so is most of the summer.

For me, I know the end of summer is drawing nigh when I start writing stories about King Turkey Day and begin to get parade entry forms. (A few years ago I got talked into chairing the parade committee; it’s a volunteer task that I mostly enjoy, although not without its major hassles. But that’s a topic for another blog.)

I love King Turkey Day. I enjoy being involved. I enjoy seeing wonderful friends from Texas who I don’t see at any other time of year. I enjoy running into my high school classmates who return home for the city celebration. I enjoy the feeling of community that comes with it.

But it’s a bittersweet enjoyment, because it’s September and summer is done with. Autumn is beautiful, but winter comes right after it, and I’m not ready to start thinking about that. The older I get, the more I dread winter.

Since we can’t stop the progression of the seasons, what can we do but make the best of what’s left of summer? Hubby Bryan and I have plans to visit friends, go to a Twins game, and there also might be time for a quick excursion to Wisconsin.