Texas in the Fall

Texas doesn't have distinctive seasons like other areas do-- we have different seasonal weather, but it's mostly milder and warmer than other places. The most extreme things we have here are heat, winter ice storms that shut down the whole city (usually in early February/late January), and floods. Because we will have a drought cycle in the summer where we are restricted from watering our lawns, or washing our cars, or ordering water in restaurants, when we do get a big thunderstorm, sometimes, it will cause those incidents you see on TV with houses washing away in a river that was dry rocky riverbed days ago.

But Fall, in a normal year, means this: slightly cooler nights (down to the 70s this coming week). Afternoon thunderstorms in "spots" around the city-- the North side gets rain but the South side is dry as a bone. Hummingbirds flitting through the trees, squirrels attacking the bird feeders and carrying off acorns from the many live oak trees. Bees frantically swooping in circles around the still-blooming zinnias and salvias. Big yellow and black giant swallowtail butterflies fluttering around the roux and dill plants, desperately looking to lay their eggs. Sitting on my back porch, looking at the winding wild jasmine vine that blocks my neighbor's view of my house, at my white wrought aluminum table that looks like something out of a tea party with Alice. Drinking bubbly water, or wine, or a cappucino.

Today, it is rainy. Grey, a little humid but cooler still too. On rainy days I usually can't bring myself to wake up as early as other days. The sleep clings to my eyelashes and I lounge in my bed with its red silk blanket and 300 count sheets, squishing Andrew's feather pillow while crumbling my "hypoallergenic faux down" pillow under my head. The cat pokes me with her paw, meowing urgently for her breakfast. Andrew is puttering around, getting ready for a long day at work. He makes himself a good breakfast, warms up the espresso machine, asks me if I want one. It's hard to get out of bed, but I do, and bleary-eyed walk into the kitchen for my morning latte. I sit for a while, have breakfast, chat with my sister about the hurricane and our family's preparations for it. (It's going to hit, maybe, right on top of them-- they live in Pensacola Florida, just west of the Destin that is the storm's easternmost potential target right now).

I should get to work on my chapter. Yesterday, I felt icky-- chest congested, headache, tired. So, very little work got done. And today, I feel much better, so I should get in there and pound away with my red pen on the chapter three writing, maybe edit the intro which I got back from my director with very little real commentary (which is a good thing!)

But the rain has me wanting to curl up on my striped beige & cream couch, in my living room with big garden windows, looking out on the front yard and its eight big trees and lots of wild planting beds. Stay in my blue and white pajamas, maybe with a warm flannel LL Bean shirt over it, and fuzzy socks. Where I might see a hummingbird. Where I will definitely see the rain fall through green canopy. Maybe read my new "for fun" book instead of work stuff. I have to fight that urge and get some work done. But boy it's gonna be tough.