There is almost nothing bad about fall (except maybe for daylight savings and the closing of Dairy Queen).. I mean come on, it CAN'T be bad... it's my favorite time of the year and also the season during which the world celebrated the miraculous event of my birth. That's two big points right thurr. I have to admit that summer, a season I used to not like very much at all save the fact that we didn't have school, is starting to grow on me. After years of hating the heat I adapted to it during the year in Sevilla. Now I make use of shorts (instead of refusing to wear anything but jeans back in the day) and I try to capitalize on how lucky I am to have beaches in my town. But even so, nothing compares with a New England fall. All the leaves changing color, the first time you see your breath in the cool, crisp air, fleece blankets, comfy sweaters, football games, my dad and his coat obsession (our childhood toy closet now houses an extensive collection of his coats, jackets, windbreakers, vests, you name it), childhood memories of jumping in giant piles of leaves with my brother and sister (and sometimes on top of a stray, hidden rake... ouch), the season's annual inaugural fire in the fireplace, the intense, clear blue of the autumn sky, heading down to the beach with a tennis ball to run around with my dog, the ability to see tons and tons of stars at my mom's house because there's no lights anywhere nearby and the air is so crisp...

So today, when Susan's mom who has been visiting asked me if I missed being in the USA, these are things that I thought of because I had fall on my mind. My mom, the other day on the phone, told me that this week is the peak week back in East Lyme, CT for the changing leaves... and that made me sad! Not in the "I want to go home" way, but in the "I miss fall!" way. Because like any normal city, there isn't a huge amount of trees here... and I don't have a car to go out driving around Spain looking for hills and hills of oranges and reds as the leaves change... and you can't really see the stars too well...and I can't find that perfect hot chocolate mug... and we don't have a fireplace. I mean, I guess I could buy one of those videos that you pop in the VCR that looks like a fire in the fireplace... but it doesn't emit the warmth or the smell that I luuuurrrve (yes, that's a Celine Dion love... that meants intense!).

I miss driving up the driveway to see smoke coming out of the chimney... which always makes me so happy because it means I can curl up on the floor in front of the fireplace in my favorite sweatpants with my dog, a book, and a big mug of hot chocolate. You know the mugs... they're big enough so that you can hold it with both hands against your chest, taking slow delicious sips. My personal favorite, currently sitting unused in the cabinet at home, is one made of clay that a friend gave to me back in high school with a painted sun and moon on it. It's MADE for hot chocolate perfection... especially if you throw a glob of fluff or some marshmellows in there. Mmm!

Haha, I need to stop listening to Ben Folds when I decide I feel like writing something. It makes me introspective.