A fall Friday


Despite my static-filled silence, friends, I promise I’m a busy little bee back here in my solitude. Last weekend featured a surprise leopard-themed 75th birthday party for my grandma, who seemed shocked indeed, as well as a visit to one of our favorite local parks. Though the leaves weren’t too impressive, it was nice to walk around and soak up a little nature before winter gets here.

Winter. I shudder.

Saturday will be another fun family day as we celebrate a dear cousin’s baby shower, and I am determined — determined, I tell you! — to get through some of the remaining boxes currently littering our office and basement. One of the spare rooms upstairs has also become a dumping ground for my childhood memorabilia, and I have the sinking suspicion I should, like, do something about that.

I don’t know.

The house has gotten away from me. We stopped by our condo this week to just check things over (still looking for a renter/buyer, God help us), and I swear I wanted to fold myself up into one of its rooms and stay there. I love the house, don’t get me wrong — it’s amazing, and it’s ours — but the condo was cozy and warm. Comfortable. Familiar.

In many ways, I still feel like a kid who somehow wormed her way into owning property . . . it doesn’t seem conceivable that Spencer and I are actual adults with actual bills and an actual house, as opposed to the cute apartment we shared. I feel completely old enough to have an apartment, but a three-story structure I’m responsible for maintaining? All those toilets for the cleaning?

Yeah. No.

But I won’t dwell on that. I certainly have no regrets, and our house is our house. As much as I love the rooms and space and the library, though, sometimes I do get wistful for our first place. I only lived there myself eight months, but Spence was there for years — and we have so, so many memories there.

But, you know. Now I’m depressing myself.

Pumpkin II

Let’s talk about my favorite subject: food! I’ve been prowling Pinterest like a champ, mostly because I totally cheated on Halloween and have just gone straight to Thanksgiving. I have approximately 10 million fall-inspired recipes I want to try, but I won’t torture guests with an exclusively pumpkin buffet. Though we’re still ironing out the details, I believe we’ll be hosting the holiday meal this year — a first! — and I’m not nervous so much as fearful of breaking tradition. Thanksgiving has always been at my grandparents’ house, but sometimes change can be a good thing?

I’m going with that.

Focusing on food gives me purpose. Direction. Hunger. When I get a little antsy, I think about pumpkin cornbread and cheesy artichoke pumpkin dip and frosted apple blondies.

All better.

Happy weekend, friends!

9 thoughts on “A fall Friday

  1. A surprise leopard themed party sounds so fun, Meg! I’m sure your Grandma was happy. And I’m not even going to think about winter yet! I’m also soaking up the beautiful fall weather and making as many pumpkin and apple treats as I can!


  2. It took me forever to feel like a grown up. Like maybe now at 38 I’m finally feeling like one.

    It takes time to adjust to all the changes.


  3. Pumpkin cornbread? Oh yum! I know how you’re feeling about Thanksgiving hosting though. I started hosting about 5 years ago now and it was a definite passing of the torch and I worried that it wouldn’t be what *I* wanted and remembered but it has been just fine. Once I got comfortable with it, I even felt okay adding and subtracting a little too.


  4. I’m feeling a bit like you — only with parenthood rather than home ownership — as we wait for Little Reader (due in 6 days!), I wonder if I’m really old enough to be a parent. My house is a disaster, and I mostly want to eat junk food rather than cook dinner, and my cat and I are happy to lay in bed being filthy on Saturdays rather than, I don’t know, be productive. How can I be a parent???

    We got snow this past weekend, so it feels like winter is here. I’m dreading it — my least favorite season — but trying to channel some bear-ish sentiment about it: me and Little Reader can be snug and cozy together. I do love me some carbs, at least, so I’m hoping to talk my wife into making spaetzle for me. It’s the only perk of winter…


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