While I didn’t get enough summer this year – does any of us ever? – I feel less sad about Autumn’s entrance. I don’t appreciate the jarring way it barges in – twenty degree temperature drop, and chilling wind to boot – but I do like that harvest has come, and apples are abundant this year, and the days are still relatively warm.
Fall has always held the excitement of festivals, and of Halloween, the scent of falling leaves, of wood fires, and of hay stacks. I’m glad I’m not allergic to those things, although when the leaves get mildewed after the rains come, then I’m suffering with sniffles, stinging eyes, or bleary from my allergy pills.
I’ve gone back to allergy shots this year, six a week for the foreseeable future. I’m allergic to life, pretty much, and I feel bad that my son is too. My father was very allergic, so I probably inherited it from him, but I hope the shots will decrease or eliminate my sensitivity.
The worst is the indoor dust mites, molds, and mildew as the cold season arrives and we’re shut up for the next five months. I do what I can to keep the allergens down, but it’s a constant battle.
I’ll drown my sorrow with some hot cider and a slice of fresh apple pie – or will it be pumpkin – or maybe, both? Tiny slices…
The calories tend to increase over the holiday season along with my waist line, so I’m trying to learn that morsels are better than nothing so I don’t feel too deprived – and there’s nothing like salsa dancing to keep the weight down, and chase away the winter blues.
I don’t mind walking in the snow, but the below zero temps like we had too much of last year, makes outdoor time shorter and less enjoyable for me. I’m not one of those hearty souls – or perhaps drunken fools – who can be out for hours in weather extremes. I’ll drink my cocoa, keep warm by the fire, and they can tell me all about their frostbite.
But, September isn’t over. We’re in for a week of seventy-degree weather, perfect for long walks, jogging, playing, and working outdoors, with lows at night in the forties and fifties, perfect for sleep, which I’ll take over the muggy nights of tossing and turning.
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current