Finally, when I walked out of school last Thursday, after a bit of a downpour that washed away a string of sticky days, there was a chill in the air that felt like fall and that led me straight to the store for a Yankee Candle pumpkin spice tart. Now I'm a New Englander, not an idiot, so I know that I am bound to feel 80 degrees again at least once between now and...say... Thanksgiving, but these past few days have been dreamy. My windows have been open, I've been lounging in long pants and long sleeve t-shirts with a throw blanket close by, and (as I mentioned yesterday) my crock pot saw the light of day. I even unearthed my fall decorations. I didn't go as far as to put pumpkin and turkey stuff out, but the few (tasteful) things I have are out of the basement and ready to go--once those 80 degree days pass and/or October 1 comes along.
As much as I love summer, I love fall, too. And when fall comes around after a few months of sunbathing and sweating and alternately hiding in air conditioning, I realize how much I love the change of seasons. I even wonder if I could ever live elsewhere. Which means I love New England, too.