A college boyfriend (who shall forever remain nameless) had a band for a while and celebrated in due course the greatness that is October. Songs were written, ballads performed, festive gatherings held- all in celebration of the ubiquitous fabulousness of fall. I seem to remember very bad pumpkin-related brews and lots of Birkenstocks.
It worketh upon me strangely, this Fall air, these scuttling clouds, the whirl of leaves.
As we settle in to an old, creaky house, replete with noisy wood floors and dark corners, I think we have the perfect setting for a magical season. Last weekend we spent Saturday in autumnal preparations, like mulching and battening and laying-by of stores. I’ve never felt so rodential.
Still on our (long and exhausting exhaustive) list of things to do are tasks such as buying room-size rugs (Allo, Ikea?) and weatherproofing the windows. Not sure how you weatherproof the windows, but the drafts wafting through the house are witness to the potential carnage of winter in an old house.
The handyman has been busy, mostly with cosmetic details like a couple of new handrails and painting the back porch (a rich autumnal chocolate-brown). Since we have a new furnace, I think he possibly believes we’ve done everything possible to conserve heat and energy. I’m looking into those energy-saving curtains, and considering space-heaters.
No, I’m not nesting, but the birds in their long Vs and the crispness of the air make me want to sing Verdi and twirl on the green outside my office. The urge to bake things with cinnamon, gooey things that need to be washed down with apple products, overtakes me regularly. I frequently spend minutes just breathing.
And don’t get me started on the mum displays at Home Depot.
So spill…are you as intoxicated with fall as I am? What are your preparations? Nesting much?