Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Fall.

I love warm weather
and sun
and flip flops
and brown skin
and new freckles
and the smell of sunscreen
and bare feet
and Sonic happy hour
and sweaty children
and long days
and relaxed schedules
and the smell of chlorine
and late bedtimes
and picnic lunches
and running in sprinklers
and, and, and.
I am solar-powered.

I don't very much like at all cold weather
or jackets
or sweaters 
(they're itchy)
or bundling up small children
(it takes forever)
or static cling
or chapped lips
or dead brown leaves
or murky pool water
or freezing rain
or bone chilling wind
or being cooped up indoors
or runny noses
or tamiflu
or, or, or.
I think I have seasonal affect disorder.
It's a real thing, and I think I actually have it.

However, I do kind of like fall I think.
I'm really on the fence about it.
I would like it more if it weren't followed by winter.
And I don't like it nearly as much as spring or summer.
But fall's ok, if I think about it.

No jackets required.
Cute boots.
Salted caramel mocha.
Apple cider.
Fire pits.
Football.
Crockpot.
No sweating.
Pretty leaves.
Soups.
Dark polish.
Warm loaves of bread.
Yummy candles.
No tourists.
Easier running.

Not too shabby.
Not summer, but not too shabby indeed.

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