Stop it already

Note: I did not take ANY of the pictures in this post.  They are all from google searches.  End note.

I have (barely) come to terms with the fact that fall is arriving a little early this year.

If the crisp temps, the fading greens, and blustery winds were not enough to queue you into the change in seasons, everyone seems to be talking about it.  You cannot go onto the old FB without seeing comments about "YAY!  Fall is here!" or "Mmmm, smells like fall!"  

And I will tell you what; I have had enough of it.

Didn't summer just start?  Weren't we all just complaining that it was so cold and rainy and we needed some hot summer sun?  Didn't I just get my first tan of the season?  I feel like we just got our grill.  We didn't get enough beach days.  We didn't watch any baseball what so ever.  I never even got new swim trunks.

How is it already autumn?

Don't get me wrong.  I used to love fall.  The baking, the pumpkin flavored foods and spices, the heartier dinners like stew and chili.  The warm fire place with a book and a glass (bottle?) of wine.  The decorative gourds.  The sweaters and the boots.  The football.  The trick or treaters.  The colors of the trees, the smells of leaves on the ground.  The drives through the countryside.  The excitement (or dread) of the upcoming holidays.

When we first moved back to Vermont, I craved fall hard core.  In lovely Truckee Town California there was no real fall.  It tried HARD.  Street festivals, sweaters, scarfs.  But it was not real.  There were no leaves changing color.  There was no smell of fall.  There was no football (like I care).  There were, however, skiers and boarders saying "WHEN THE FUCK IS IT GOING TO SNOW?!"

So when we returned to Vermont last year, for our first proper fall in three years, I LOVED it.  I baked the shit out of everything (hence the weight predicament I am now in).  I made warm hearty dishes all season.  I bought those scented Yankee candles that smell like apple pie.  I put pumpkins out front with mums to look legit.  I even tried apple picking (but failed miserably).  

I want to embrace fall.  I do.  I want to sit next to a fire and drink some red and read some books and listen to Joni Mitchell sing to me about painted ponies going up and down; or go for a drive in the rich colors of fall until I am lost; or bake my heart out; or pick some apples; or decorate; or dress like the stylish 26 year old I am at heart with floppy hats, scarves, big sweaters, leggings, and boots; or invite friends over for an amazing 4 course dinner that is 100% fall inspired, INCLUDING spiced spiked local apple cider.

But with fall comes my reality: I am married to a man who leaves from November until April.  I have not one friend in the area to do fun fall stuff with.  We are broke. 

Fall is not as enjoyable when I have no one to enjoy it with.

I am not complaining.  I do enjoy fall.  One month of which I get to spend with my husband. I like the scents, the sights, the excitement of fall.  I understand why everyone is happy about this yearly change.  It is just challenging for me to bid farewell to my husband, not only my rock, my partner, my best friend, but my only friend where we live.

I am torn: I love fall, but hate the solitude (and debt. and weight gain.) I find myself in.

From now until November 1st, we have a lot of baking and casseroles to make and eat.  A lot of spiked cider to drink, a lot of hikes to go on, roads to explore, apples to pick, pumpkins to carve, candles and sweaters to buy (on the credit card, of course).  

And then I will bid him adieu.  

Until spring.

Ah, spring.

Respectfully,

Granny