I AM A SUMMER PERSON. I have to say it in all caps because it is not cool.
Cool people love fall (they're cool, get it? A punny joke only a summer person would make.). They love boots and sweaters.
I'm from the Bay Area. We could wear boots and sweaters all year long. I like boots and sweaters the way I like jeans and vanilla. But sunshine and going sockless at night? Is special!
Fall to me spells the coming dreariness of rushing kids to school in dark, cold mornings, and driving them home through dark, cold nights. Toes that never really warm up indoors. And the end of the best fruits.
It's never really that bad. Fall also means harvest, which in NorCal means all the usual agricultural things but also means the crush-- harvesting wine grapes and turning them into magic. And the crush is such a romantic notion (I mean come on, it's called THE CRUSH), how could you not love it? But in my head, fall equals our season of dystopia.
So when my best pals online shared this article with me, it changed my whole outlook on fall. I seriously look forward to reading this every year. Why? Because "it's not summer, it's not winter, and it's not spring."
This year, we also had THE MIDTERMS to look forward to. As of this writing, we're just wrapping up counting up the votes in races across the country (we just had a tie-breaking roll of the dice in a local county!), since this year we're actually insisting on counting every vote. I'm thrilled about some local races-- Sabina Zafar in San Ramon, Rebecca Bauer-Kahan in AD16, Tony Thurmond for state superintendent.
And now that we're approaching winter solstice, Colin Nissan's essay warms me up with the humor of winter squash. I mean, what more can I ask for than good humor and good socks in the winter?
Not much more. Maybe a good book, which I found in Michelle Obama's Becoming. That's up on the blog next!