It's been, oh, what's the word?
That's right. Awesome.
It's been awesome.
The main excitement (besides driving to DuQuoin for work and discovering where all the Trump signs are being posted) was going to the St Louis Renaissance Faire (I refuse to call it a festival) for the third time this year.
To be fair, it was only the second time this season. The first trip was during preview weekend last spring.
This past weekend, though, we did Ren Faire big. We got parasols, corndogs, and a Hanging Sky Chair.
And now I know what I'm doing for the rest of fall/winter.
No, really. I'm set for fall. I have new dog slippers (complete with bows and tails). I have more books than I know what to do with (and the ever-present desire for more). I have knitting/cross-stitch projects galore. I have daily writing to do, at least through the end of October. And I have a new-found love of my bread machine, so there will be no shortage of carbs to fatten myself up with while I lounge around in my hanging chair.
Oh, and I have a shark onesie.
I'm not sure I've ever been more ready for fall. Other girls might have their Uggs and their PSLs, but I have other loves that rear their cozy heads around this time of year. I have leggings and crock pot recipes and soup and the smell of bread baking. I have scarves that I knit, a snuggly dog, and a fiancé who lets me leech off his body warmth without much complaining.
I know, I know, the temperamental St. Louis weather has been bouncing around between the 50s to the 80s, but never you mind. Fall is coming. The leaves are starting to turn, Halloween decorations abound, and there's a nip in the air that has me beginning to shy away from my beloved summer dresses.
Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm so into the thought of fall this year. It's a bit out of character for me. While I always enjoy the cooler temperatures, fall is in actuality merely the herald to the oncoming and disgusting slog of winter. My wardrobe is mainly fixated around a world that is perpetually 80 degrees, so declining temperatures leave me scrambling for cute outfits to wear, and most of my shoes are non-functional for getting around in the snow.
Maybe it's the fact that I'm waist-deep in the busy season at work with no end in sight. The introvert in me (okay, the introvert that I am almost completely comprised of) longs to go into full-hibernation mode, to set up camp in that sky chair with coffee and books and only move to get another piece of bread or snuggle my loves.
That's obviously not possible, but it doesn't change the fact that it's what I want right now. I want to be home, cooking and reading and eating and wondering why we ever go out to eat. I want to knit and snuggle and work on my writing while Mark works on his art. I want to ignore the craziness of the world around me and focus on what makes me happy.
So if I'm a little too excited about fall, please excuse me. It's just the introvert in me, looking for any and all excuses to stay inside.
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