Falling Into October

Flour covered every inch of the kitchen counter last night, and buried in its scattered dust were measuring spoons, spices and fingerprints. It was our first batch of pumpkin bread--a tradition which launches the season for us, as funny as that may sound coming from a girl in southern California.

It feels like summer, but alas, it turned fall this week.

And because of this, I feel compelled to rattle off everything I want to enjoy now that it's fall. Like fires and blankets and movies and cider, nature walks and baking and decorating and friends.  Even though it's ninety degrees outside right now and the closest apple orchard is a plane ride away.

I might not have golden fields or fiery foliage to tell that it's fall, but I have my own memories--rituals I want to recreate that rely less on weather and environment and more on effort and the need to keep up with this season, which happens to be my favorite.

Summer is free and alive, spring is renewing, and winter has the whole Christmas thing going for it, but fall? Fall is home.

This, of course, doesn't mean I won't go to the ends of the earth to bring a little bit of fall environment to our otherwise barren landscape (by barren, I'm referring to majestic palms and calming ocean--I'm exaggerating due to my current South Carolina withdrawl). 

My Top Five Fall Memories and Favorites:

1. Living in South Carolina when fall meant drives to the orchard, oatmeal apple crisp after dinner, and cider with our lunch trays.
2.  Warm sugared donuts 
3.  Building giant piles of leaves just to jump in them for a moment of satisfaction.
4.  Wearing tights--even in California, even if it's hot
5.  The Elementary School Leaf Project--saving maples and oaks and aspens between sheets of waxed paper, thumbing through leaf identification books, making crayon rubbings from my favorite leaves.  

Free

Long blog pause due to proper living.

Today began with the sound of my alarm going off. I opened my closet and a pile of clothes came tumbling out, probably because I folded them in a too-high tower or didn't position them correctly. Blame is important in these situations, you know, but I'm still the victor because... hello, I folded my clothes--a feat always worthy of applause in this home.

Lemon squeezes nicely into lemonade when you figure it was a good opportunity to re-organize them and pick off some lint balls. Plus, I found a dress that I forgot about.

But then, inconvenience struck again. When we got home from school, the front door was locked, and so were all of the windows. And I was mad. It's one thing to bang loudly on the door and shout for someone to open it, but I even made turning the knob and opening my backpack to get my phone into a loud activity. Like "SOMEONE (BANG) OPEN THE (BANG) DOOR".

I was supposed to work on homework and a story that's been brewing in my mind for a week, and I ended up hiding my backpack on the porch and walking to the library. This is where I'm supposed to say "This blows, what a waste." Alright, it totally blew. But I have this theory on nights that blow. There's this old Top Chef episode where, in the quickfire challenge, contestants were given a selection of ingredients--one of which happened to be SPAM. Given a choice between fresh, flavorful foods and SPAM, you would assume any chef in his right mind would scurry to score the good stuff and the last rotten egg would, begrudgingly, claim the SPAM. But any smart chef knows, SPAM's a challenge. Anyone can whip up something good out of fresh produce, but SPAM? It requires ingenuity, a look outside the box. If you can turn SPAM into something good, it's a guaranteed win--an unforgettable victory. A risk, yes. A disadvantage, definitely. But an edge.

An edge that makes you realize...
Wow, I did that. I made something good out of SPAM. Imagine what else I am capable of.

*******

If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content.
thank you, veronica roth, for your always perfect quotes.

T'was a gauntlet week, last week. The kind you dread on Monday but makes you feel victorious on Friday.

And last Friday, it felt just like Friday should feel.

I never expected that I would actually enjoy football games (I hardly understand them), and I never have before. But last Friday? Good lord, was it fun. The screaming and the cheering and the clapping and pounding and noise and smells all came together into one of those "life is good" moments that make Mondays worth it.

peace is restrained. this is free.

I hope today feels like a Friday for you.