I wish I was one of those people who loved Fall. I am not. Fall color, cider, apple crisp- they are distractions. Evil is ahead.
When I was younger, September meant school and the exceptional terror that the Sisters of Charity doled out. How to avoid corporal punishment crossed my mind. We went to a school where the Good Nuns could whack your hair to your eyebrows for overlong bangs, or crack you with a ruler for sloppy handwriting. Defensive learning was a MUST. Forget your homework? Stand in the wastebasket with your nose on the blackboard. Yikes. So…. I was not romanced by new crayons or notebooks. I had seen the enemy and she had a pointer, and no sense of humor whatsoever.
Now I am old and wily. I am not seduced by pumpkins and candy corn. The beautiful Christmas lights beguile me, but they do not fool me. What dwells beyond is short, dark days: the Midwestern nothingness of Winter. And far more football than I ever want to share a room with. (Sunday all day and night, Monday Night, Thursday Night and Saturday all day for college.Come On!)
I know what is lurking just beyond the holiday season. Sure- an end to football. But mostly the aforementioned Nothingness.
Snow. Sleet. Cold. Gray. Gray. Gray.
I am pre-pouting and grieving, I know. It is unbecoming. I blame it upon being Irish. Melancholic shamrocks dance in my brain.
In an effort to rewire this crabby brain, I am going to concentrate upon the good things about Autumn. Every day (or so) I will scribble about some special treat the season holds. I plan to look for good things, overlook what makes me a bitch.
Good plan, right? I’ll try to be brief. Breezy, even. I’ll need the loft.
Today: Autumn will bring me my newest grandson, Jackson. (#3 woo hoo- age has its rewards!) Though it is impossible to conceive of, my baby is having his own baby with his wife Justine. He will be a Scorpio. This is ominous because (were I given to subscribing to a pagan notion that the nuns would crush me for) what other sign is named for a poisonous critter? It is also my dear husband’s sign; if I have learned anything, it is to step aside from his dark side. On the positive side: he is quiet, and that is desirable in a baby. If there is a God, and the Nuns insisted He saw every damn thing I did, he will be as oppositional and mysterious as his Dad. Revenge will be mine! (just kidding, Matt)
I am counting the days. Mary will have Henry to toddle behind and Jackson to boss around. I will have three wonderful reminders that my time here mattered, and three cuddly reasons to make the world a better place. This grand baby will live in the next town over, and soon will be joined by the Pat Dahl family. A second generation of Lyons Township Dahls. Perfect.
Ahead: A new romance with baking? Crafting? Story hours? Family dinners?
It is a good time to dwell in possibilities. Like the possibility that I will learn to cook and bake. That DOES make me smile.
I’ll keep the list of Fall joys coming. And maybe a few Winter ones.