Today Susan was more like Ruth than I've ever seen her. This morning I walked in on her and Sam, and she said, "Look! Look at the tricks Sam can do!" She then proceeded to tell Sam to sit and roll over and jump up and down, and after each trick she threw him imaginary dog biscuits. He was having a great time. And that's what I mean by her being like Ruth: No one else has the ability Ruth has of inducing people to do what she wants them to, and somehow making them like it! Okay, maybe this is just a sign that Susan did a lot of babysitting as a kid (and was never overburdened with scruples about others' dignity). I prefer to believe the genetic link is showing itself.
That's not a particularly autumnal pleasure--more year-round. Today's wallowing-in-Fall experience was a long visit to Mendon Pond. Sam and I went, giving Susan time to get other things done. We wandered around the little sensory garden (not a euphemism for anything), marveled at the horses, threw things in the water, played in the playground, watched the geese get alarmed by other small people, rolled down a couple of hills, examined a grasshopper without killing him, got spooked by ghosts which turned out to just be pedestrians, tossed cat-tail fluff in the air for Sam to run through while giggling wildly, and sat serenely watching a family of seven deer graze nearby. This was the kind of afternoon which makes you think, "If Sam dies tragically, I will look back on this with unbearable heartache." That is, if you are a nutcase.
This morning we also went to the Public Market and got a heap of veggies and fine cheese. What a green day! Where are my berkenstocks? Where's my hemp sweater? Why is my hair so short?
The colors must be close to peak. Whenever I think of Fall I think of the movie The Trouble with Harry, since more than most it takes advantage of a Fall New England setting. It's also a hilarious movie. (Shirley MacLaine in a role which won't disturb you!) If you haven't seen it, you orta. Here's a conversation starter: What is inextricably tied to Fall for you?
[And Juli or Andy, if you're reading this: What's Fall like in Blighty? I can't remember! In the absence of sugar maples, do they have any color change to speak of? Do people still eschew the cities for fear of Spring-Heel Jack?]
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Hot tea and carbohydrates. I mean scones, sorry. Autumn here means it's finally cool enough to leave the house, so it's around 80, or a bit either side. The leaves have started to fall, but they're not pretty, they're just suddenly dead and descending, and the acorns are plinking off everyone's roofs (rooves?) and clanging off grill lids and stuff. It's sad. But now we're gardening again, and stuff.
Even though it seems like springtime or nice summer again, I have that internal Autumnal need to nest. I've used the crock pot again and baked two loaves of bread in the last two weeks, and I have no actual idea what drove me to it.
Give my love to Susan and Sammy.
(regarding the quote in the sidebar) Yes! Sam is correct--you really must buy cookies and eat them. It's good for morale.
Autumn means Buckeye football and beef stew and my little Tiger cat getting his luxurious winter coat on and my enormous Jenny cat getting cold at night and coming in to sleep on my head. I find all this to be very soothing.
Yes, I am reading this (5 weeks after you asked!). This particular Autumn in England has been spectacular. I recently posted a blog with lots of pictures of a bike ride in Cambridgeshire. I laughed out loud reading your queries in response to being at the public market.
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