Happy Christmas, Harry!

It doesn't quite feel like Christmas around here. I mean, everyone's overjoyed and kind and spreading the spirit of the season, but it came so fast. Plus, the grass outside of my house is green as can be. But it doesn't really matter, because it's been such a beautiful day anyway! I got a ukulele (I've learned probably twenty songs since this morning, too) and a bunch of notebooks. Santa obviously knows I have an odd inkling to write constantly. I even got a journal for insomniacs - which is very fitting, on account of I am an insomniac who loves to journal. Huzzah. I sketched a picture of Ron in his maroon "R" sweater (back in the good old days when Mrs. Weasley sent all of her children sweaters for Christmas) shouting "Happy Christmas, Harry!" I signed it saying, "Happy Christmas from the Harry Potter nerd living amongst you." No one in my entire family has ever read Harry Potter except for me. Sad, isn't it? How was your Christmas? As smashing as mine? I hope it was. You certainly deserve it.

"Dwell in possibility."

All my love and Christmas wishes, Addy

So it would seem that...

(please.)

Fall is here. I can taste it. It tastes like football games on Friday nights; the smell of soup and watered-down hot chocolate. The warmth of friends and my favorite tea. Cheers for That Boy who plays quarterback. The gloves and scarves and hoping for a win. It tastes like leaves falling off of the giant tree in the back yard. It tastes like being little all over again and running at full speed into the piles. It tastes like long pants and dropping tempuratures; cold winds, freezing mornings. It tastes like structured jackets and warm boots. It tastes like pumpkin muffins and school, early mornings, with frost tipping the edges of the grass. It tastes like new pencils, new shoes, new books, and clean sheets. I tastes like paperwork overload. It tastes like earlier bedtimes and warmer food. It tastes like the end of watermelon. It tastes like breezes and rain and kind of a little like the end of something beautiful... It tastes like summer is running off in her flowered dress and bare feet to sunnier settings and saying, "Have a nice year!" while Autumn tips his hat and asks, "May I come in?" It tastes a little sad. The tanlines fading into the pale of my skin, the last of the sand slipping from between my toes, swimsuits put up on the too-high shelf where winter coats used to be... But it's here. We can't stop the clock or stall any longer.So here it is. And here we go.