The end of summer -- finally
I am a native New Englander. I was born and raised less than 10 miles north of Boston, and I've lived here all my life, except for two years in Syracuse for school (New England west, IMHO). Therefore, I have a New England mentality. I distrust strangers, warm on the inside and a bit brittle and cold on the outside with them. I believe in pulling myself up by my bootstraps and that anything worth doing is doing right. I worship LL Bean. I refer to six inches of snow as a dusting. And so on.
So this summer thing -- well, it's kind of a novelty to us New Englanders. Don't get me wrong: When there's a foot of snow on the ground and I haven't left the house in two days because the windchill is below zero, I yearn for shorts and sandals and going in my pool. But I do find that a few weeks of really hot weather is my limit. Then I can't wait for it to hurry up and get cold, for fall textures and clothes and raking leaves and going apple picking and drinking cider and getting ready for Halloween and ultimately, winter.
Fall is easily my favorite time of year. On September 1, I started putting up my fall decorations. I had friends call me too eager. But honestly, fall feels like home to me. We're going into the home stretch of the year. The kids are back in school. The nights are great for sleeping. The TV shows I love return. Life feels normal again. And of course, I am a fall baby, so I have my birthday and my favorite holiday, Christmas, to look forward to.
One of my favorite expressions is from Thoreau: Live in each season as it passes, drink the wine, taste the fruit. Summer has its place. I enjoy it, especially night swimming in my pool. I enjoy not dealing with winter viruses and slipping all over the road when I drive and wearing eight layers to go the mailbox. But bring on the fall. I love it. Like any good New Englander should.
So this summer thing -- well, it's kind of a novelty to us New Englanders. Don't get me wrong: When there's a foot of snow on the ground and I haven't left the house in two days because the windchill is below zero, I yearn for shorts and sandals and going in my pool. But I do find that a few weeks of really hot weather is my limit. Then I can't wait for it to hurry up and get cold, for fall textures and clothes and raking leaves and going apple picking and drinking cider and getting ready for Halloween and ultimately, winter.
Fall is easily my favorite time of year. On September 1, I started putting up my fall decorations. I had friends call me too eager. But honestly, fall feels like home to me. We're going into the home stretch of the year. The kids are back in school. The nights are great for sleeping. The TV shows I love return. Life feels normal again. And of course, I am a fall baby, so I have my birthday and my favorite holiday, Christmas, to look forward to.
One of my favorite expressions is from Thoreau: Live in each season as it passes, drink the wine, taste the fruit. Summer has its place. I enjoy it, especially night swimming in my pool. I enjoy not dealing with winter viruses and slipping all over the road when I drive and wearing eight layers to go the mailbox. But bring on the fall. I love it. Like any good New Englander should.
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