It's the Season of Death

Today is the first day of fall. It was all over the news. It's not something I want to hear when I first wake up. Really, it's not something I want to hear at all.

Autumn has never been a favorite time of mine. It meant going back to school, which always caused anxiety. It means the end of long days, pretty flowers and staying up late (yeah, I know that last one doesn't make sense but go with it for a minute). Fall means all the leaves change colors (granted, that's pretty) and then they fall off and everything looks dead. Besides, we all know what's coming next. Snow. I hate being cold.

People start wearing sad colors. Browns, oranges, yellows - they look pretty on leaves but not on clothes. I like bright purple, turquoise and pink - spring colors. Sweaters are good. They not only keep me warm but hide me. I like that.

The worst part of fall - without exception - is the time change. Fall back. Blech. Spring ahead - that even sounds happy. The days are long, the warmth stays. Fall back sounds dangerous. The days are shorter. I need MORE hours in my day, not less.

My mother had winter foods. Chili. I loved her chili (though I make it even better now). But she wouldn't cook it in the summer. And, though I think that's a silly rule, I don't cook it in the summer either. I don't eat hot dogs in the winter. There's just something not quite right about that. Does that make sense? Probably not. It's in me though. I can't change it.

My New Years Resolution last year (and the year before, I think) was to be PFP. Pretty Fucking Perky. I've mostly hit that target but lately have been missing it. So to end this somber post, I'll add something PFP about fall: there are more deer to watch on Sligo Creek Parkway (a good thing) and the sunsets lately have been pretty. That's as perky as I'm going to get.