There’s this one week every August where everything feels… slower. The kids are still home, but the camps are over. The back-to-school chaos hasn’t started yet. It’s like summer’s taking a breath before it says goodbye.
This week is my favorite and my least favorite at the same time.
I love the golden light in the evenings, the quiet mornings without alarms, the smell of grilled corn and sunscreen still clinging to the porch furniture.
But also… we’re all tired. The novelty of summer break has worn off, and the fridge somehow always feels empty (even when it’s not). The idea of cooking dinner, again, feels heavier than usual.
Last night, I stared into the produce drawer for a good two minutes before I closed it and said, “Let’s just do sandwiches.” Again.
But tonight was different.
Not because I planned ahead. Not because I suddenly found motivation. Honestly? It’s because I remembered a recipe I’d clipped onto the fridge last week, a late summer pasta with cherry tomatoes, garlic, and basil.
I didn’t have everything, so I swapped in what I did. The tomatoes were wrinkly but still good. I added zucchini. I poured a little too much olive oil, but it worked.
And here’s the weird part: it was peaceful.
The kids helped slice the bread. Music was playing. I didn’t even yell once (a seasonal miracle). We ate on the patio and watched the sky change colors.
I think cooking during this season isn’t about big, impressive meals. It’s about using what’s left in the fridge, in the garden, in your own energy.
And maybe letting that be enough.
If you’re in that same in-between space, summer fading, routines returning, and dinner feels like a question mark, you’re not alone.
One thing that helped me lately was a box I got from Special Delivery. It had a few fresh recipes for the season, a couple tools I didn’t know I needed, and little cards with ideas for making the most of summer produce.
But mostly? It reminded me that cooking doesn’t have to be perfect. It can just be… good enough to gather people around the table.
And sometimes, that’s the best part of all.