20 Favorite Smells from October through December

1. Burning leaves
2. Wood-burning fireplaces
3. Apple cider
4. Toasted pumpkin seeds
5. An early morning close to but not quite at frost level
6. Cinnamon sticks
7. Bonfires
8. Hay
9. Pine needles
10. Pumpkin pie
11. Hot cocoa
12. Pine needles
13. The air before a snow
14. Turkey
15. Dinner rolls
16. Mulled wine
17. Roasted marshmallows
18. Fir trees
19. Allspice
20. A forest blanketed in snow
    

October

I remember when the world series (and the games leading up to it) didn't require special commercial spots or jazzy advertisements to entice people into watching or following the games. I remember when the World Series was the culmination of an entire lovely season of what may arguably be the greatest American sport every - I mean, c'mon now... national pastime, right?

So what happened? Why the celebrity endorsements? The annoying Dane Cook ads from last year... the taglines and attempted pop-culture, water cooler, Gen X-Y-Z phrases meant to make the game cooler/hipper/sexier than apparently it has become (or not become).

It surprises me each and every time. My husband and I are in the midst of Red Sox fever... watching the games every night and wishing we could listen to the NESN guys instead of the chattily superfluous TBS men.

WE WANT THEM TO WIN!!!! And then we want them to go on to face the Dogers and crush them in a way that leaves Manny Ramirez ruefully shaking his head and wiping back regretful tears as he watches the best ball club in the country ride off into the sunset - victorious and full of sportly glory.

I already love October. And there is something undeniably romantic, nostalgic, and seasonally titilating about getting caught up in the magical rush to those final games... especially when your favorite team is one of the two to make it there.

Hopefully, Andy and I will be able to sit and cheer for the Red Sox, wishing the Cubs could have been there too... and another season will come to an explosive close as fall tumbles forward into winter.

Into Autumn

There is a very small pumpkin in the backyard. It was one of Ari's birthday plants that managed to survive in its small pot and was eventually transferred to the backyard when Papa and Num-Num came to visit this summer.

It has pretty much blossomed and died, except for one doggedly determined little pumpkin plant who started life looking more like a watermelon. It has remained alive, despite Ari's enthusiastic but problematic removal of its stem early on and the disappearance of nearly every other part of the plant that once spread out like tentacles from the patch near the garage wall wherein the plant was rooted.

The little fruit has turned from green to orange in the last few weeks, and although Simon has decided this is a prime pee spot and never fails to miss a chance to "water" the plant each and every time he goes out, there is a wee possibility it will survive into October and potentially be fully ripe as we enter autumn.

I am no pumpkin expert, and so I am unsure whether this gestation period resembles the expected pattern, nor have I decided what sort of impact (if any) Simon's generous fertilization should have upon what we do with the plant should it ever come to a fully ready state.

But it's been lovely to watch it grow, to marvel at its tenacity and determination, and to see it's bright little round body grace our yard with spunky bravado in the face of so many seeming obstacles.