Tomorrow is the first day of Fall? Are we sure about that? I love this time of year, but I am not feeling it. Everything seems to be going according to schedule: the kids are settled into school (first quarter progress reports are in), we picked apples (in shorts and t-shirts), they've decided what they want to be for Halloween (a soldier and Dorothy), there are pumpkins and gourds covering the grocery stores' front sidewalks. I get it. I know what the calendar says.
But the weather is telling me something completely different. It's 90 degrees and humid. N asked to go to the pool yesterday. I've only worn jeans once or twice. After walking the dog this morning, you could have wrung me out. I turned the a/c back on the other day for Pete's sake! What I'd like to be doing is making soup and baking cinnamon bread- feeling that tug back into the kitchen. There are pears for pear butter. There are comforters ready for swapping out. I want to cheer for my little soccer players on a cool Saturday morning. Grab a sweater for a walk around the park in the evening.
I'm in no hurry for Winter. No sir. But Fall is still coming, right? We won't skip over it all together, will we?!
Maybe I should just play dumb and start getting things ready anyway. It'll be hard, though.