
Fall sneaks up, yet I have not transitioned the wardrobe or shoes. Getting dressed this time of year is a weird combination of tank tops and short sleeved shirts with corduroy or jean jackets. Fall over summer or something. But I think this week will mark the full cross over into a fall wardrobe.

AdRi bought a fire bowl on clearance this past week, and we’ve been spending an hour or so the past few evenings sitting outside around the fire. Last night I looked up and saw the full autumn moon through the leaves of the tree, felt the cool chill on my body facing away from the fire, and breathed in the evening air. Inhale. Exhale. It’s a nice time together to talk about the week to come, to talk about work, to talk about whatever. I’m loving it.

I know Winter is around the corner, and I feel like I need to prepare. Make sure I’m taking my vitamins, and finally get around to getting one of those lightboxes. Planning for a vacation to sunny southern Mexico in February helps too, and soon we’ll book that sweet trip. I learned this summer that millions of women in this country are misdiagnosed with depression when actually, they have underactive thyroids. While I haven’t been diagnosed with depression, my thyroid isn’t up to speed. So I’m getting some help with it and hope to have a bit brighter of a winter. I’ve been so surprised to learn so many other women have too. We just don’t talk about it.
I have some new mad skillz and projects I’m working on, and I’m sure I’ll share them here on the blog when I’m a little further along. The seasonal transition takes me out of the garden some, and inside to work and different kinds of creating. One thing I’m trying to get in as much as possible before a freeze shuts everything down in the garden is harvesting the herbs.

Lemon verbena is such a fragrant one. What I’ll do with all of this is unknown, but I suppose I’ll figure it out. Tea and potpourri is one thing. Dried for culinary use I’m not so sure.

I made some apple pie this weekend, and brought some down the street to our neighbor. He’s 94 years old, and AdRi and I stop in to see him every other day or so. He’s spent his summer sitting in a rocking chair on his front porch and we’ve gotten to know him pretty well. I love hearing his stories about growing up on a farm in Washington, and moving to N. Portland as a child in the 1920s. Living in the Albina neighborhood, he’s told me of the huge Polish and German population that lived there, the houses with the big porches and being in a family with lots of kids. He’s become a good friend of ours, and while we don’t usually both see him at the same time because it’s either me walking Wink or AdRi walking Wink, he always asks about my partner and what she’s up to. I love that this 94 year old man doesn’t even blink when it comes to us being partners. A month or so ago I told him to ask AdRi next time he sees her what she does for a living. He did, and the next time I saw him, he was just beside himself to know a female police officer. (Actually, I think he called her a police woman. Love that.)

Happy Autumn, peeps.