Slow Down

I'm starting to feel the pull of slowing down. Of wrapping up and closing my house, snuggling into winter. The air is turning crisp, slowly. The breeze, while the same temperature as just weeks ago, feels differently, chilling me deeply while before it cooled the warmth of my skin. I'm feeling the oddness of flip flops on my feet and have started gravitating toward covering my toes. Opting for boots on Sunday with my summer dress.

Hot chocolate canisters are jockeying for the front position in my pantry once again. My Cocomotion being dusted off and readying for another season, sleek with anticipation. My freezer is filling, my pantries being stocked. Dates set for our annual potato harvest trek. Roasts are once again being cooked. I'm turning to soup for lunch more and more.

This limbo time between peach juice running off elbows and soup simmering on the stove all day for warmth is my favorite place to be. Wrapping up in a blanket with the windows open. My skirts being teamed with a cardigan once the sun dips and fades. Sipping hot chocolate and lemonade all in the same day, matching the various states of layered outfit changes. Ignoring the whines of others that winter is coming too soon, much too soon. Picking up the skin you shed at the beginning of summer and snuggling back in to the familiar rhythms of family and friends and routine.

It surprises me every year, this love I have for fall. It's strong and unyielding. Each September reveals hidden, more deeper meaning than before. I find parallels in life to be stronger in the fall than any other season. While I oft see the need for hearth and home, the fall brings it to my consciousness like no other. Food stored. My boys close. Plans slowed. Breathing purposeful. Resolve renewed. It feels very much like my personal New Year.

This year's pull has begun. My internal countdown to winter has started. I hear it on the wind and feel it in my bones. I tug on my boots and breathe. Deeply. Feeling the pull toward the things in my life that truly, deeply matter.


(feeling the pull - the swell season)

Help

We read The Help for book club this past month. I liked it. I did not, however, love it with the fiery passion of my first born. I had definite issues with parts of it, as well. Mostly the ending. But we'll get to that.

The good: it was a great story. It was engaging and the characters were all very vivid. She didn't scale back the ugly, which was highly important to the story. I found myself very upset, which is clearly the plan. I hated Hilly and Skeeter's mom. The part of the entire story I identified with the most - that really spoke to me - is how dominated women were. It made me angry again and again. In a good way. Well, mostly good way. I may have spoken out at church last Sunday when someone was trying to pin a trait of a husband as something unique about the wife when I should have just let it go (or maybe not...) and I fully blame the book for reigniting my still flaming feminist ways.

The bad: She spent 400 pages setting up this grand story. 400 pages! And then she just...ends it. The ending left a LOT to be desired. Such a huge build up and the ending was such a let down. I was FINE with how it ended, but it seemed...hurried. Build up and then, oh crap. I really need to finish this so I will, um...now. It really bothered me. The other glaring thing that really bothered was the secondary story lines. Some of them I liked and some I didn't, but all of them seemed unfinished. I loved Celia Foote. She was one of my favorite characters but her entire storyline seemed moot at the end. Which was a shame because I think, if done correctly, it could have been a much, much stronger storyline than it ended up being.

The movie: It's important to know that I did not cry. Not even a little bit. And I'll tell you why. They screwed up basic characteristics of the characters in ways that they lost every ounce of integrity they had carved out in the book. Hilly and Skeeter's mom had bouts of humanity and conscience. Aibeleen lost all of her calm resolve and became mouthy. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Emma Stone was lovely, as always, but I was dismayed by how her and Stuart's relationship was portrayed on film. I know that much had to be altered for film, but these were things that didn't stay true to the characters and that simply...bothers me. Make changes to fit a film format, sure, but keep the character's traits in sync with the book. At the very least.

So I liked it. I'm not sure why it's gripped the nation so, but it's definitely worth reading. Maybe if I had gotten to it before the hype I would have loved it more. Or maybe I would still think the ending was rushed and the secondary plot lines weren't fully developed instead of focusing on the fact that Skeeter was somehow able to escape an insufferably stilted life as a wife, eschewing her goals in the process. Oh, wait. Maybe I got that point, still, loud and clear.


(from a friend to a friend, pajama club)

Week(s) in Pictures

I need to reshoot these. My lovely new shoes. LOVE!


Sammy at first day Kindergarten drop off.


Present from awesome sister...


Sammy. Looking 35. I don't like it.


Let's play a fun game of spot the typo:


Fresh off the vine blackberry and peach crumble. Oh, yeah. That was happy.


Great wall o' blackberry:


Venue for Def Leppard. It's such a great spot for concerting...



(right here, right now - jesus jones)

For Those About To Rock...

What do you get when you take 8 friends to see Def Leppard on a random Wednesday night? A WHOLLY good time, a sore throat, exhaustion and elation.

Notes and Questions about the night:
*There are some still trying to rock a mullet. Why?
*I have not smelled that much beer in one place since I used to go dancing every week at Retrix.
*Ann Wilson (Heart was also playing...) may be old, but she can still BELT it even if she just rocks it a little more gently.
*When they started into These Dreams (Heart), I was transported back to 6th grade, magically.
*When are rock stars too old to rock? For the record? Joe Elliott is not there yet.
*The two drunk couples (and I mean DRUUUUUUUNNNNNNKKKKK) in front of us were so disturbing in ways I can't describe. Well, except creepy and lech-y. And fearing they wouldn't make it up the incline when it was over. Thanks to the kind (had no choice) people who propped them up on the way out. Here's hoping they took a taxi!
*There was a little boy, probably around 10ish, a couple of rows up from us. Head and hand going the entire time, belting the words. He was adorable and I kept thinking that will be Sammy in a few years, rocking with the parents. And made me pretty excited to go with my sister when she takes my nephew to his first concert in a couple of months. EEEEEEE! Ticket came last week.
*They played this song, which I have not heard in 20 years, and I was suddenly transported to high school. Not one specific memory, but the totality of it. It was the strangest of sensations - memories being forced back to consciousness.

(rock on)

It was a great night with friends. We all had a good time, I think. Even if my camera's battery was exhausted and we all had J-O-Bs to get back to and could have rocked a *little* bit earlier...

It was worth it just to hear that many people singing this at the top of lungs. Awesome.

(pour some sugar on me, def leppard)