Fall is here, ring the bell
Back to school, hear the yell...

It is finally, finally fall. Even though it's the end of October and nearly Halloween. This is alternately my most and least favorite time of year. Every year at my house Fall is signaled by the cataclysmic thud of walnuts falling on our tin roof gazebo (often dropped by industrious squirrels). When the walnuts begin to drop I know it's time to hunker down and begin the process of readying myself for winter. I want to bake bread and and eat soup and put an environmentally-friendly fire log in the fireplace. I want to wear sweaters and chenille socks and sleep in flannel pajamas. But this is California and the weather is getting weirder and weirder. Don't believe in global warming? Then someone explain to me why this time ten years ago I was bundling up my fairy princess baby in fleece hats for our trip to the pumpkin patch and yesterday we went in t-shirts and sweated the whole time. October in Sonoma County is a frustrating leap from sun to shade, and then back again.

Bella B had a soccer game yesterday and I couldn't get comfortable! Too chilly in the shade but when I stood in the sun I felt like a skewered hot dog. The sun feels closer and I resign myself to sweaty, shivery discomfort for essentially the entire month of October. The good news is that even as I moan and groan the bells of fall begin to chime a little louder. When the dining room window is open I can hear the crackly shells of dead leaves skitter down the street and I look forward to next weekend. Halloween! Too much candy, clammy costumes made of non-breathable fabric, and then the trick-or-treating. It doesn't seem to matter how hot the day was, by Halloween night the weather has changed and it's always freezing.


We do have one fall tradition that I love enough to mention. Every year since Bella B was six my rock star husband (still working on his pseudonym) sits on the edge of her bed on the eve of her first day of school and sings the "back to school" song. She watches solemnly as he strums and I stand just behind, sniffling over the fact that my baby is another year older. That, more than anything, signals to me that it's fall. We may still be hitting the pool and slathering on the sunscreen but I know change is in the air and I wait for it, one abnormally warm day sliding into the next, until 80 degree weather is a distant memory and I can-finally!-feel in sync with the seasons again. Maybe that's the problem with starting school in August. We want it to be fall. But it's not! It's really just the peak of summer. So sad we're so distanced from our seasons. Anyone can see just how much by visiting Joann's crafts which is, at this very moment, stocking Christmas decorations.

It makes me grouchy, but I know we're getting close. The sun is hot on my shoulders as I write this and it's only a matter of days before I find myself dressed in chenille socks, wrestling a pot roast into my crock pot. That crisp fall day is just around the corner. I can hear it through my window and those skittering leaves never lie.