There is just something about the fall season that wraps me in a warm embrace. Maybe it’s because it’s hot coffee season (Wait, there’s a coffee season?), or the snuggly, chunky sweater I pull on to keep out the evening chill. It could be the return of some of my favorite foods and flavors or feeling the warmth from a crackling fire heat up my chilled cheekbones. Whatever the call is for you, Fall embodies many creature comforts. That’s why we love it so much. We all have our own Fall traditions and comforts that we gladly embrace.
In our family, we celebrate the season by harvesting the last of the summer vegetables grown in our large raised-bed garden. We pull out the camp chairs and set them up around our fire ring in the late evening hours. We fill our barn with hay bales for the winter and stack up our pumpkins and gourds in neat, little displays on the front porch. We begin thinking about our Halloween costumes and carving pumpkins, and what we’ll dress the dog as this year to walk around our quaint, perfect (it really is story-book) early 1800’s town where residents really put on quite the display for pretty much every holiday.
*sounds of screeching tires* Wow, that sounded a little too Laura Ingalls Wilder there (still one of the literary American greats). Those moments do happen in our family but let’s be real here. A normal Fall day goes a little something like this…
*Alarm sounds after the third snooze cycle* I shuffle out of bed, bleary-eyed and indifferent to consciousness, complete my morning routine before heading down to get my first cup of coffee. For those of you wondering, my favorite fall brew is Fireside, hands down. I say good morning to my son, who by the grace of God is a morning person, and is already up and having breakfast (not my genes). I pack my lunch and get my bag ready for school while tripping over our four dogs who have apparently thought I had left them forever upon going to bed. I run back upstairs to wake up our daughter, who is NOT a morning person (totally my gene pool), and we grumble our “have a good days”, “love yous”, and “goodbyes” with a mutual understanding that whomever decided to start the day so early had to be a cruel and wicked individual.
I stumble back downstairs, grab my bags, keys, a portable breakfast (usually a muffin or a toaster pastry) and head out to the garage whereupon I realize I have forgotten to make my coffee (too late for that now). I drive to work and arrive some time around 7am. First things first, I start brewing my coffee. Priorities. Then it’s go through the work day, be brilliant, inspirational, caring, firm but fair, and challenging. Wrap up that part of the day and head home where the daily homework battle begins.
Yes, I’m a teacher. I know I have to grade papers. You don’t need to remind me. The kids and I power through our homework (with surprisingly little kicking and screaming) and move on to our daily chores (insert kicking and screaming here). We make it through the evening and bedtime routines (Hey, don’t judge me. I can call controlled chaos a routine if I want to.) and lay our heads down for the night.
I couldn’t do this without some excellent coffee to back me up. Then, it’s on to tomorrow…rinse and repeat.
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