“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”

The weather has stayed amazing. The days are warm and the nights cool for sleeping. Last night I closed windows. I wore long sleeves. Fall is impatiently waiting in the wings.

This time of the year the house, in the morning, keeps the evening chill. I am always surprised when I walk outside and it’s warm. It is already 75°, but I’m wearing long sleeves as here, in the den, the sun doesn’t hit until the afternoon.

I remember the weather changing when I was a kid. The mornings were brisk. It was time to wear a fall jacket. On the walk to school, the trees hanging over the sidewalk began to change color, a few leaves at a time. My walk was short: down the hill, take a left, take a right then walk the straightaway. The straightaway had a sidewalk and was lined with houses. I remember on the corner was a two family, a double decker. It was a faded brown. Across the street from that house was one side of the convent. The school and the other parish buildings, the rectory and the church, were across from the front of the convent. The convent is gone now. The nuns left first. I remember every part of that walk. For eight years coming and going it was my walk to school.

As soon as I walked into the house after school, I’d change out of my school clothes. I’d throw my shoes on the closet floor then hang up the skirt and blouse. I preferred my play clothes anyway. They were a sort of uniform too: pants or shorts, a blouse and sneakers.

When I was in the fourth grade, we went to double sessions. I preferred the morning as that gave me all afternoon to play. The afternoon session was difficult. We hung around the house all morning sometimes playing outside but usually watching some TV. Getting dressed for school late in the morning seemed wrong somehow. In the winter, it was just about dark walking home from school. We never ate lunch at school.

This is a slow week for me. The uke concert was Monday, practice Tuesday and my lesson yesterday. Nothing else is scheduled. I’m doing odd cleaning again. The other day it was the cabinet under the upstairs bathroom sink. It was a jumbled mess. After I was finished, I had two bags of trash. Now I have plenty of room for storage. I really don’t like this mood. It offends my inner sloth.

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2 Comments on ““Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.””

  1. Bob Says:

    Hi Kat,

    Well, we actually had a very few clouds in the sky today, but it was still 106°. I’m very ready for some cooler weather and some rain. Tomorrow our repair guru is coming by to find out why are refrigerator ice maker stopped making ice. He will also replace a couple of our sprinkler heads have decided to spew water like a gusher. Regardless how much water I have been using my grass in the front yard looks terrible.

    The weather around here usually doesn’t start to look like fall until late September or early October. The State Fair of Texas begins in mid September and ends in early October. It’s the largest State Fair in the country. When I was a kid we always went, but as I got older I quickly lost interest.

    When I was in elementary school the fair, along with everything else in Dallas, was completely segregated. This meant that blacks were only permitted to attend the fair on certain, “colored days”. During the 1950s living in the South was a depressing experience since I and my family knew that all people are equal. The Jewish community back then had to keep a very low profile concerning segregation because the haters considered Jews only a few short steps above blacks. The current haters are all Trumpsters.

    • katry Says:

      Hi Bob,
      The temperature has already dropped to 66° from a high of 74°. We are expecting rain late tonight and through tomorrow. I suspect the heat will be back though next week will be September.

      My ice maker had to be replaced at one point, and I also have replaced sprinkler heads. I hate when things stop working. They seem to do it in thirds.

      We have no spring here, but we have a long, lovely fall. It is the best time of year here on the cape. I love to wander the backroads and take pictures. It is only the weekends when the tourists come down. I can deal with that.

      In the older days, there were few Blacks on the cape. Most that lived here were from Cape Verde. That has changed. Many Blacks now call the cape home. We also have a large Brazilian population. I’m sure there are haters, but they seem to stay underground for the most part.

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