The First Day of Fall

In the North Bay, fall feels like spring. The sun is warm and golden, the birds sing and the rain -- after maybe 200 days without it -- is a blessed thing. For once I do not need to water the garden.

But there is no doubt that winter on the way. There's a tiny tree on Broadway St., two blocks from here, with leaves turning scarlet. The mornings are crisp, with a hint of cold to come. I'm starting to wonder how to best cover the fuchsia plant my mother gave me for my birthday so the frost does not do it in. Unlike San Francisco, Petaluma freezes.

This morning Paul is at the flea market, like most Sundays. Henry went to his mother's house at 8am, to spend the day with her and her new boyfriend, Whitney. They've been dating now for two weeks and yesterday, when Paul dropped Henry off, she asked him, still dressed in her pajamas, if he'd like to meet her new beau. Paul declined.

There are other milestones on the horizon. My web project for Dun and Bradstreet is wrapping up, and I'm looking forward to spending more time in the garden, clearing out the tomato plants and picking up the redwood fronds that drop in the raised beds -- and everywhere else. Paul and I have postponed our wedding, probably another year, to give us some more time to get acquainted and learn how to plan together. My next project is my health: all is well, but, as the Buddhists say, it could use some improvement. This month it's my teeth. They've moved in the past few years, and the new situation is not sustainable. SO my regime is jaw evaluation, stabilization and then braces. Nice to get that all done before I turn 50.

To celebrate fall I am cleaning out the tupperware drawer, donating old clothes and reordering my closet. It's good to un-gum the works now and them. We've gotten into camping this summer, our little family, and the equipment continues to pile up in the garage. For instance, I scored a clothes line at the Dollar Store, in case we need to dry towels after a beach day.

Soon I will walk the dog, drop off corks to the neighbor who's taken on art projects for her niece's wedding, and compost the walnuts I picked up from a neighbor's tree, only to learn that they need to be dehusked and then "cured" for two weeks. Then roasted and cracked and cleaned. Needless to say, shelled, roasted and bagged walnuts are looking like a true bargain.

Off to enjoy an episode of Foyle's War. Ta-ta.