In blows hope

It's another lazy Sunday for me -- generally my favorite kind. But my Sundays are also tinged with guilt, because by Sunday afternoon I always feel like a loser for not accomplishing what I wanted to for the weekend. Usually household chores. We already spoke about my love for those.

So I awoke from my Sunday afternoon nap, stretched, and let the guilt set in. Then I noticed something -- the curtains were all blowing crazy-like in my kitchen and living room -- in front of the windows I'd opened... wait... I vaguely remember something about a cold front... on Sunday... wait, it's Sunday ... sqeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I jumped up and pranced through the kitchen to my back patio, and stepped outside into the glorious wind. Then promptly got hit in the face with my hanging chair that was blowing every which way, but I didn't even care. I did a Titanic Dipu and thrilled in the cool breeze, watching the trees sway and listening to the [broken] windchimes [not] chime ... three sets of feline eyes watched cautiously from the kitchen table, as their usually sluggish FoodSource was OUTSIDE, and this was a sight to behold. They were afraid. Very afraid.

I stood out there, arms outstretched, until I got cold. Which was probably under a minute, in fact I'm sure of it. But in that precious 60 seconds, I felt a tiny sprig of joy and hope spring up in my heart. Like it does every fall, at the first real cold front. I love cold weather, people, and no I don't fully understand why i'm still in Texas but that's another topic. The cool weather brings with it my happiest memories, of playing in the snow in Kansas; sledding down Snake Hill (and into a pile of rocks -- again, another post); high school football games snuggled up next to my HS sweetheart; making out down at the rec center wearing his jacket; summers in Colorado at Spring Canyon (ok, that's not officially fall, but the cool weather still counts); and on and on and on. The annual Thanksgiving Parade in Comfort, snuggled under a blanket on my sister's MIL's front porch, holding the youngest nephew in my lap. Breaking out the sweaters. The cool weather brings me to my happy place, I suppose you could say. While the hot weather that exists the other 10 months of the year here sucks it all out of me. Another post.

I stepped back inside, hair wild, eyes bright, toes cold, and confronted my feline audience:

Good times are on the way, my kitties. I think I'll give you canned catfood for dinner in celebration of fall.

And they rejoiced.

Here I sit now, typing a blog, upright for the longest period so far today, planning out how i'm now going to go clean the kitchen and perhaps even do laundry. Or...vacuum. The possibilities. They are endless. I must seize this hopeful burst of energy before it warms back up to 90 later this week.

...and good times were had by all.