Thank you all so much for the amazing comments, suggestions and feedback on my last post. It was truly wonderful to hear from people who’ve taken similar social situations and forged their own way. I think it’s very telling of the character of the commenters on this blog that nearly every one of you spoke of starting your own group in the place you were–so many action-oriented, fun-loving people! You guys inspire me and I’m happy to say that my ad for a toddler group will be in the next Embassy newsletter and I hosted a play date yesterday for a couple of little boys and their Mamas. Plans have been in the works for a while now to host a sort of family friendly Happy Hour and brunch pretty much since we got here, but now I’m even more motivated to just make it happen. All thanks to you. Now I just wish I could invite you all over for brunch too!
I’ve done this before on this site and if you’ve ever met me in person between the months of September and November, there is an outstanding chance that I’ve made at least one or two comments wistfully romanticizing a good North American autumn.
Right now it’s still close to 100 degrees everyday in New Delhi but the mornings are strangely almost cool. Until about 7:30am it’s quite comfortable to walk around the grounds sipping a cup of coffee (me) chasing tabby cats (Will) while wearing a pair of sweat pants (me) or a long sleeve shirt and no pants (Will).
And between the sweat pants in the early mornings and Pinterest regurgitating all sorts of seasonal cheer all over my computer screen, it’s time for my annual “I miss Fall!” post.
I love living overseas. 9 months out of the year, I think living overseas is way more fun/interesting/exciting/easier than living in America.
But, in my unbiased, highly expert opinion, the months between the start of the school year and Thanksgiving weekend are more beautiful in American than anywhere else in the entire world. It’s a fact. I think most foreigners who’ve ever seen the stunning red and gold speckled mountain ridge lines of the mid-Atlantic or the riots of colors and apple harvests from Maine all the way to Minnesota would completely agree.
Three times now I’ve left America right before my favorite part of the year and every time the nostalgic memories of my North American childhood come back to haunt me just a little. I think to myself that, if and when we ever live in the United States again, I will live Fall to it’s fullest for as long as we are there. There will be hay rides and hot apple cider and haunted houses and leaf piles and apple orchard visits and windows thrown wide open to let it in the crisp fall breezes while I sit at a counter huddled up in a huge sweater with my hands wrapped around a mug of something hot and seasonal. Or maybe just my usual cup of black coffee–but in some sort of fall flavor like pumpkin spice or something else that smells delicious (and likely tastes terrible as flavored coffees are wont to do).
But until then, here’s what I’m dreaming of during my early morning Fall reveries:
The faintly sweet and musty smell of fallen leaves blanketing the sidewalks outside my parents home and the sounds of school kids and neighbors crunching and swishing their ways through the piles of gold and yellow and red.
Friday night high school football games, decked out in school sweatshirts and hats and mittens that we hoped made us look cute in that “I don’t need to try” way to all of the gorgeous (to our young, impressionable, hormonal minds!) senior guys in the front rows of the stands.
That first morning waking up with a cold nose and warm toes and realizing that it might be time to turn the heat on soon but also that there is nothing quite as cozy as a warm bed in a chilly room with sunlight streaming through an almost frosty window.
No longer having to worry about wardrobe malfunctions associated with swimsuits, tank tops and whether my arms look bad in a cap-sleeve t-shirt because it’s too cold to wear any of those items anymore.
Cozy socks and big boots. Big soft wool scarves.
Football season. I haven’t closely followed the games since leaving Wisconsin, but I do miss the comforting ritual of the Sunday afternoon game playing everywhere we went.
The smell of woodsmoke in the air. Backyard bonfires. Walking through the woods without a single mosquito bite.
My sister’s Halloween birthday and the parties my mom would put together when we were little kids complete with caldrons of steaming punch and festive graveyard cakes and more Halloween decorations than anyone else on the block.
The most piercingly blue skies you’ll ever see.
Did I mention the leaves?
What do you love about Fall?