It May Not Be Fall, But It Is Fall-ish

Some of you live in climes where seasons just click right into place at the appointed time. At least it seems that way to me. 
Here?
Eh. Not so much. The seasons do not so much arrive as they wander about awhile, take their time, change their minds, wander some more, and finally, get tired I suppose, and settle in. 
Except for summer, of course, which arrives with the sudden intensity of a hammer blow to the head. 
So although I could tell that we're nearing the equinox due to the way the light falls, it's not been until the last week that we've really had strong indications of autumn coming. But today was rather glorious. Still is. It feels like fall is coming. Cooler for sure, dryer, too. 
And the red flowers are headlining the event. Funny how that works. I guess pine cone lilies' blooms aren't really flowers though, are they? They might be. 
I don't know. 
I don't know shit. 

I took a walk this morning and it did not feel bad at all. I stopped when I was almost home to talk to a neighbor. This is a woman who is probably as apt as I am to stay to herself but when we do talk, I always enjoy it. She's so smart. She grew up here and has just retired from teaching at the local community college. She lives in an old house too, which is next door to her brother and sister-in-law's house, the same house her mother lived in before she died. I believe she lived in this house too when she was a child. 

Anyway, that was pleasant and look what came in the mail. 

I could not be more thrilled. I finally found the ones I wanted online. I have no idea why, but most overalls come with a buckle that looks like this. 

Now you'd think that design is fine and I guess it is but it just doesn't last. See that little Dutch-hat looking bit at the end of the loop there? Those fuckers break. They split. And then they are of no use whatsoever and you can easily find replacements that are made the same way but they, too, will break. I can't tell you how many times I've opened the washer or dryer to find one of those little metal clasps, having reached their use-by date, rendering the rest of the buckle completely useless. 

Another good thing about these new ones is that they cost fifty cents apiece which is CHEAP! I got them from a company called Round House Jeans and although they claim that their buckles will only fit their overalls, that is not true. So I've spent some time today replacing buckles. It's so odd that a good pair of overalls will last forever, no matter how much punishment you give them. But they make these overalls that are made with iron fiber or something and then put those damn buckles on them that are guaranteed to break. 
I ordered ten of them and I think I should go ahead and order another ten. 

Here's another picture of that oak tree. I wonder how old it is. It has to be close to ancient. One of the things my neighbor and I were talking about was how we now see things that may be coming to the end of their lives, like oak trees and houses, and think, "I hope it lasts at least until I die."

Or on the other hand, to gauge how long a pet might live and make the decision not to get one, based on that. No one wants to outlive their dog. 

"Isn't it strange," I asked her, "How quickly it seems that this has become an issue that we have to consider?"

So, yes. Fall is coming. It will be front porch weather again. 

This little porch is sort of hidden in plain sight. It's in the front of the house, but not right out front like the other one. If you look at the picture in the header, it's to the left of that one. You can see a gray door there. You can gain entrance to that porch from either the guest room (where the gray door is) or from my bathroom. I know. That's a little odd, but this is an old, winding and wandering house. Owen and I spent so much time on that porch when he was little. I read him so many books there, sang and rocked him to sleep so many times. 

Oh my. 

Can you believe that he is just about to be fourteen years old? Next Tuesday. Impossible. And yet, obviously quite possible. I am so grateful that I got to spend so much time with him when he was little, and his brother Gibson, too. I was the main nanny when both Mom and Dad were at work. I'll never forget how nervous I was the first day Lily brought him over for me to take care of. We found our groove though, that boy and me. And he named me MerMer and I love him so much. So does his Boppy, and we are both so proud of him. 

And always will be. I hope he always carries that knowledge with him, no matter how old he gets, or where life takes him. I wish for that so much. 

Love...Ms. Moon