It's that time of year again. All things crisp and fall and windows open and heavier blankets on the bed and allergy headaches that are totally worth the fresh air.
It's the Plaza Art Fair season. The jeans, no socks, soft sweaters time of year. Wandering down the closed streets and lingering inside booths filled with ceramics and color and photography. Stopping to talk to artists and marvel at tiny quilts designed from microscopic cells and robots made of tin cans and springs and cherry blossoms constructed from newsprint.
Walking around the Plaza and checking out the Homecoming decked girls in fluffy 1980's dresses mixed with skimpy mid-drift baring gowns that make me realize I'm closer to these girls' parents' ages than their ages.
Long walks outside, kicking crunchy leaves and avoiding the hidden dog poop under those colorful piles of red and yellow.
Pumpkin bread, cupcakes, lattes and all things spiced. Though I do not recommend the Salted Caramel Mocha at Starbucks, unless you are just looking for hot chocolate, then go for it.
Savory crockpot stews and homemade bread after a long day at work, anything that helps me to be lazier at night is highly approved of over here for fall.
The smell of fireplace and gray ribbons of smoke floating out of chimneys all through our neighborhood. Which immediately makes me realize that we have stereo equipment and a Blue-ray player inside of our fireplace. May have to wait on making smores then.
Chunky cardigans over thin, long-sleeved shirts with long scarves double wrapped around my neck.
Ginger chicken and noodles from Blue Koi with a pot of hot green tea to share, the perfect comfort food. Who wants to join me?
Boots, boots, and more boots, short ankle boots, tall slouchy vaguely slutty boots, flat snow boots with buckles. I like boots with everything.
I can now watch regular television, instead of just Netflix, since shows I like are back on instead of just crappy reality shows and reruns. Except 30 Rock and Mad Men and Justified, but they'll be back soon. Oh Justified, come back soon please. I miss Timothy Olyphant already.
I'm buying all kinds of crazy tights this fall, plain black or brown is just dull. Patterns, colors the whole thing, so far I've got gray argyle and purple. Not exactly crazy but I'm not 16, so I've got to be circumspect with the tights choices. Don't want to look like the wicked witch of the west in my stripes.
Wandering around apple orchards and sampling cider and hayrides. Though I don't remember the last time I went on a hayride. Probably the last time I drank peach schnapps and got felt up over my stone washed jean jacket.
Hot tea on the couch, covered with a blanket reading a good book watching the leaves blow around on our sidewalk.
People watching on a Sunday morning outside at Starbucks and wondering who decides that a tunic top over see through tights counts as a dress. Tights, even opaque tights, are not leggings, lady. We can see your underpants. If you have to tug something down 20 times in two minutes, maybe change clothes? I know it's Missoni. I know you fought some woman and pulled her hair to score that dress at Target, but yeah, it's not a dress. (Kristen's facial expression when she saw this agreed with me, without having to say a word.)
Chunky cardigans over thin, long-sleeved shirts with long scarves double wrapped around my neck.
Ginger chicken and noodles from Blue Koi with a pot of hot green tea to share, the perfect comfort food. Who wants to join me?
Boots, boots, and more boots, short ankle boots, tall slouchy vaguely slutty boots, flat snow boots with buckles. I like boots with everything.
I can now watch regular television, instead of just Netflix, since shows I like are back on instead of just crappy reality shows and reruns. Except 30 Rock and Mad Men and Justified, but they'll be back soon. Oh Justified, come back soon please. I miss Timothy Olyphant already.
I'm buying all kinds of crazy tights this fall, plain black or brown is just dull. Patterns, colors the whole thing, so far I've got gray argyle and purple. Not exactly crazy but I'm not 16, so I've got to be circumspect with the tights choices. Don't want to look like the wicked witch of the west in my stripes.
Wandering around apple orchards and sampling cider and hayrides. Though I don't remember the last time I went on a hayride. Probably the last time I drank peach schnapps and got felt up over my stone washed jean jacket.
Hot tea on the couch, covered with a blanket reading a good book watching the leaves blow around on our sidewalk.
People watching on a Sunday morning outside at Starbucks and wondering who decides that a tunic top over see through tights counts as a dress. Tights, even opaque tights, are not leggings, lady. We can see your underpants. If you have to tug something down 20 times in two minutes, maybe change clothes? I know it's Missoni. I know you fought some woman and pulled her hair to score that dress at Target, but yeah, it's not a dress. (Kristen's facial expression when she saw this agreed with me, without having to say a word.)
Football season! Ok, who am I kidding. I'm going to a football game this coming weekend, evidently it's important and I should feel torn about whether Wisconsin or Nebraska might win. Instead I'm just enjoying the Facebook smack talk around it and the chance to hang out with my in-laws, nephews and niece and maybe a pumpkin beer.
These kooky and beautiful quilts that look like paintings until you get up close and see the tiny stitches and squares, triangles and bits of fabric all layered and melded together to create these strange folk art masterpieces.
All the good Oscar season movies coming out in the next couple of months. We are going to see a free screening of 50/50 tomorrow night, kicking off the movie season with a little Joseph Gordon Leavitt and some cancer.
Upcoming road trips to see people we love. Throw in some football, some little kids, some pottery painting and conversation and October looks pretty great.
My new tradition: buying affordable art that I can wear on my ears. Last year I went with some coconut shell earrings in bright red that I wear the hell of out of. This time I went with these tiny aluminum disc danglies made by an artist who specializes in chain mail. Chain mail! Next time I might go with a chain mail scarf. Very King Arthur and Guinevere, or more like Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
So what says fall/autumn for you? Buying new school supplies? Burning leaves in a big pile in the backyard? Halloween costume planning? Or maybe getting blitzed on peach schnaps and getting grounded again?
2 comments:
1. Whaaat!? I love Salted Caramel Mochas! The trick is, you have to get an extra shot of espresso. So if you get a grande, get a TRIPLE grande. Makes all the difference. Also, sometimes I ask for half the number of pumps of syrup, which makes it less sweet and more coffeeish. Sbux is all about knowing how to customize so all the customers in line behind you are rolling their eyes at what an a$$ you are.
2. Me! Me! I wanna join you at Blue Koi for ginger chicken and noodles and tea!
3. Road trips, yay! I'm glad I'm gonna get to see you guys soon.
4. Um. I might be tempted to steal those earrings if I see them, so you might not want to bring them to Omaha. Or if you happen to get the chance, buy a similar pair for me and I will pay you back. Unless they cost more than, oh, $25. Then I don't want them.
Changing into my pajamas immediately upon returning home... cause it's the perfect outfit for sitting on the couch and drinking a big glass of red wine.
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