You know the season I’m talking about — not summer, not fall, but that awkward stretch in between when Mother Nature can’t make up her mind. I call it Fummer.

This past weekend was a perfect example: 90 degrees on Saturday, rainy and 65 on Sunday. How are you supposed to dress for that? Shorts with a raincoat? Flip-flops and an umbrella? It’s a fashion crisis on repeat.

Fummer is when your thermostat gets a full workout — heat at night, A/C by day. When your wardrobe looks like it’s suffering from an identity crisis: tank tops tangled with sweaters, sandals fighting for space with boots. And don’t even get me started on meal planning. Chili feels right until you’re sweating halfway through the bowl.

But in true community spirit, everyone handles Fummer differently. One neighbor’s still out grilling in shorts, another’s in boots and a sweater, and somebody’s arguing about whether it’s ice cream season or chili season. The only thing anyone agrees on? Nobody knows what to do with the thermostat.

Unpredictable, messy, and a little ridiculous — but honestly? I kind of love it. Being a Cali girl, I could live with Fummer all year long.