My first post of October means just one thing... more raptures over this season that has always held my heart.
All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken. -Thomas Wolfe
Stunning.
I literally get goosebumps when I think about fall, and not just because the temperatures are dropping. It's a gut-feeling, a primitive response of sorts. The sky has different moods come October, the trees take on a life and voice of their own, the air has that smell - you know the fall smell - and I get unabashedly carried away. I can't help it, and even if I could, I wouldn't.
I feel all sorts of vintage L.L. Bean-y in the fall. Except I don't like hunting.
I find myself lighting cinnamon and caramel scented candles and tiny tealights in jeweled, cut-glass cups.
The pink champagne of this summer has been abandoned in favor of dry red wines (a constant, steadfast love of mine), hoppy ales, and deep, frothy porters. If you haven't tried Yards Brewing Company, I highly recommend you go buy yourself one of their "Ales of the Revolution." Click here to see my favorite.
And how cute is this Cheers sign I just picked up from Pottery Barn?
The lavender that grows wildly around our front porch now peeks over the rim of the milk pitcher on our big farmhouse kitchen table, and I smile each time I see it, relishing that last little bit of summer all the more... because it's fading fast.
And then there are the fall flowers nodding garnet and crimson and white on our kitchen counter. Rather than cut from our own tangle of weeds garden outside, these beauties were more prosaically purchased at Costco, one of the happiest places on earth.
Even more prosaic? We found this wreath at Rite-Aid. No shame, I think it's gorgeous.
I have baked three loaves of bread in the past week, everyone. Three. Actually, the third will start kneading in the ol' machine around 3 pm today, so I guess it isn't technically baked yet. But when we trudge up the steps after work, we'll walk into a home filled with the scent of homemade bread (Hungarian white bread with fennel seeds, if you must know). A golden retriever will be crying with delight and smiling hugely over the baby gate in our mud room.
Or curled up in front of our "hearth."
True, the temperature may begin climbing again over the next few days as summer gathers her things -- beaches, poolsides, flip flops, hot days and hazy nights -- and bids farewell to this year. I'll miss her; she's been a wonderful guest over the past several months. She was my newlywed summer, and it feels like she just arrived a few weeks ago.
But fall is arriving -- my oldest, most cherished friend, the one who ushered me into this world -- and she's here to stay for awhile. She's come with funny, wonderful plans for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. She's bringing all the old homey, cozy feelings along in a woolen handbag. She is my newlywed autumn, and I can't wait to settle in for a visit.
Our engagement picture last year. Awwww.
Of course, my girl Anne Shirley Blythe says it best...
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?”
Indeed it would, Anne. Welcome, October!