Friday morning I left the house and,
for the first time in several months, went back inside to grab a fleece.
Fall is here. The kids are back in school. The Red Sox are (hopefully)
headed for the playoffs. And tonight Tom Brady steps back on the field
in Foxboro. I love fall.
Summer is great in Rhode Island—the
beach, the ocean breeze, the slower pace as people take time off. But
although I enjoy it, I can’t wait for fall to come. Labor Day is my
New Year’s. I think about what I want to change—getting more exercise,
eating better.
I settle into the routine of leaving
with Nora at 7:15, getting my coffee and getting into work for that
productive half-hour before the telephone starts to ring. And I love
my first glimpse of fall colors, my Sunday afternoon of cooking now
that the heat of the stove is welcome rather than something to avoid,
listening to Joe Castiglione and Gino Cappelletti as they narrate Sox
and Pats games for me while I do work around the house, or in the car
when I am heading to a weekend work commitment.
The cooler air, the golden sunlight
that comes in the fall, the energy that a recommitment to work and school
brings … I have been enjoying all of these the last several days and
look forward to more.