...farewell, fall...

 It's been gray and gloomy all day here.  I think even the weather is ready to put fall in the rearview.

I'm feeling...some kind of way...today, as I pack up the final remnants of Thanksgiving decor and lighter-weight apparel.  Normally, Autumn is my season. The hot swelter finally broken, and the outdoors just a tad bit safer for our explorations as the bees go bye-bye.  I love the cool breezes that make for perfect bonfire nights in September ~ the costume creating chaos in October ~ the retreat to the kitchen in November as I prep for Thanksgiving and fill the freezer with stock and soup and casseroles.  Autumn is ideal for daytrips and hikes.  It's sunny days and cool nights.  It's hot coffee to start the day, and spiced sherry cider to end it.  Autumn is adventure and cozy and a million things in between.

Usually.

This year, Autumn has been...a season of struggle.  Like so many, our household was impacted by the pandemic financially.  Profit losses, coupled with a significant reduction in work did not pair well with the mass price increases everywhere.  Constraints on time and a push to fuel that second-stream income wreaked havoc on our normal schedule. I felt my frustration spiraling every time I looked for "family friendly fun things to do" and found that the base prices had more than quadrupled since we'd last visited.  Our poor broken budget, already stretched beyond capacity, definitely couldn't take any more.  It felt like such a mom-fail...this making do with crafts at home, instead of taking the toddler apple-picking and fall-festing and daytrip-adventuring. And even our few attempts flopped.  Price-gouging and "closed due to covid" and scheduling upsets all'round.  What a waste.

Henri and I, confronting Fall and losing

I feel like fall failed.

I feel like I fell.

Which..I mean...I sort of did.  We all did...for two weeks...fell sick with RSV.

And now it's all rush to catch-up and make-up.
And just like so many years ago (17, but who's counting) I have a toddler who was seriously sick and is now in the "skill drop-off" stage of recovery.  Only this time, instead of needing extra assistance, he needs extra patience and extra strength and extra pain relief as he exorcises his discomforts: non-linguistically, but very verbally and very, very physically.

It's like he's trying to fight fall to the bitter end, but I'm the collateral damage.

I'm so ready for the next season.
I'm closing this out now and stepping away to put finishing touches on holiday decor. 

I've got plans...big and small...things to look forward to and things to create.  I've got magic to make, for this family of mine...both my two boys, and my step-children.

I've got high hopes and simple pleasures filling the calendar for December.

I'm so ready for it.

Farewell, fall...do better next time, won't you?