Head in the sand

There comes a time in this twilight period between autumn and winter where I try, as hard as I can, to ignore the impending season change. There are many winter jobs to do when you live here. And I don’t like them. At all.

No, I don’t want to rip out the skeletal remnants of my rotting garden. I want to close my eyes and remember those two beautiful days when my garden was lush, beautiful and healthy. No, I don’t want to plant my garlic in the cold, cold soil. I want someone to do it for me.

Here are some chores that I also have no interest in doing: cover, I mean find someone to take the barbeque to the landfill where it belongs) kids from where I stashed them in embarrassment last June (this one is easy, I never put them away) boots and see if they fit (fingers crossed) ignore the shorts in everyone’s drawers)

In the midst of all of these chores to be done, you could imagine that I am avoiding any downtime which would propel me into guilty action towards this list. I just don’t want to do any of it.

What I do want to do is this: enjoy the season.

I am going to show my kids the proper way to kick over a pile of leaves and how best to warm up your hands after playing in the cold, fall air (wrap your hands around a mug of hot chocolate). I am going to play with my kids and maybe even start organizing Halloween costumes early (pre-planning Halloween seems unlikely to happen).

I am going to be amazed and in awe and grateful to be living stunning here in the fall.

For now, this time before shoveling becomes a thing, life is wonderful.