September is like gateway or fake fall, appropriate considering that the season exists officially for only one-third of it. But October — and especially so this year, ushered in with a week of gray rainy (which I just typed as grainy, also somehow fitting) weather — almost without fail sets off the following things in the following order:
* I spy the season’s first interloper.
* All of a sudden the children need to wear socks again and there are no socks anywhere. Ever.
* I spend approximately one week extoling the virtues of cardigan weather before I remember it’s here to stay until June of next year and worry that I chose poorly.
* We get all Fall Cute and plot afternoons of apple picking, hayrides, corn mazes, apple cider doughnuts, leaf peeping, posing for pictures in pumpkin patches and pretend we do it for the kids.
* I immediately crave soup, chili, roast chicken, caesar salad, grilled cheese sandwiches and hearty baked pastas. Let’s waste no time getting to that last part.
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