Tights! I love the first day of tights in fall – I think I rushed it a little, as it’s supposed to hit 77 today, but I don’t care. I’m ready.
We spent the weekend in the final throes of summer – a pool party with several families, one of which contained three little girls (ages 4,5, and 6) who roamed about the yard and house in a small, silent pink herd – quietly rearranging the lawn furniture, surreptitiously feeding the dog banana yogurt, making pilgrimages to the car in which they arrived to fetch backpacks and baby dolls and a large broken umbrella. They left as quietly and pink-ly as they arrived.
Scamp and I prepared for fall knitting – cleaning out our yarn baskets and revisiting half-finished projects. Bernardo fertilized the lawn. We watched parts of a couple of football games – and found ourselves re-watching Remember the Titans. Bernardo roasted some chicken with butternut squash (marjoram, garlic – very savory against the sweet backdrop of the squash). There were apples.
We’re moving inexorably towards the closing of the swimming pool. It will be too chilly to eat outside. Gradually and then suddenly we’ll move indoors – at first feeling grateful and energetic, later feeling cooped-up and frustrated. It will snow. There will be needles from the Christmas tree all over the floor. We will fantasize about golf.
But for now, we’re bustling. The Rhinebeck Sheep and Wool Festival awaits.