Fall, Schmall... Or, my own little bitty pity party

I hate fall. There, I said it.

I live in a place where autumn is greeted with general enthusiasm and even excitement. Spectacular fall colors blanket gently rolling hills in almost every direction. But where everyone else sees beauty, all I see are signs of impending doom and gloom--namely, of the five or six unrelenting months of winter that are about to descend upon us with a choke hold. Months and months of bitter cold and a sun that, when you can manage to see it, looks like it needs life-support.

I just can't seem to get down with the whole seasons thing, despite the fact that I've lived here for 15 years now. The California girl in me not only wants it to be summer year-round, but truly thinks that it ought to be.

My pool is still open (though I did finally cave in and turn off the heat after that last pool party last Thursday--was it really just last Thursday?), and my bathing suit still hangs from a hook in my bathroom, along with my pool towel. Somehow I can't help but feel, each year, that if I don't put my bathing suit away and don't close the pool, autumn simply *can't* come.

It never works, of course, and I inevitably end up with a very cold pool full of dead leaves that are really a pain to deal with. But it doesn't stop me from trying, year after year.

Don't get me wrong--I do try to make myself like fall. I try to muster up some enthusiasm; I really do. I try to talk myself into getting excited about pumpkins and Halloween costumes, and hay rides, and turkey, and holiday parties.... But would I put those things off forever if I could still be enjoying the warm sunshine, and tennis, and swimming, and backyard BBQs? You bet I would. Besides, I can't help thinking about how throughout the fall, all over Hawaii, for example, people are enjoying Halloween and Thanksgiving and holiday parties just fine, and in between it all they head to the beach for the afternoon.

I'm sitting here shivering in my drafty old house, hoping for a heat wave, but knowing that not long from now a day like today--or an evening like tonight (42 degrees)--will feel positively balmy.

So, go back to California, you say? Here's the thing--I can't really do that, for a variety of very good reasons (among them three children who need to stay near their other parents!), and even if I could, I'm not sure I'd want to. I actually love it here. I have an amazing community of friends, and I've really built a life for myself that I love. Not to mention the fact that the cost of living is such that I can live it up here in a way that I'd have to be a multi-millionaire to do in CA. It's a wonderful place to be raising a family. Apart from the wretched cold and serious lack of sunshine for about half the year, life is generally pretty easy here. Traffic is practically non-existent ("stuck in traffic" means it may take you five extra minutes to get across town), nowhere is too crowded, crime is low, people are down-to-earth and friendly in a nice, low-key kind of way. Despite the fact that it's a small city, there is plenty of culture. Ok, not New-York-City kind of culture, but enough culture to keep me satisfied most of the time.

So, I guess I'll go crank up the heat a bit, perhaps make myself a cup of hot tea, and remember to keep counting my many blessings. But don't blame me if my mind keeps drifting to how, at least in an alternate universe, I could be counting them just as well on a beach in Hawaii....