Ahh, October

The temperature is supposed to drop into the 30s again tonight, so the radiators are quietly crackling throughout the house. Fall is finally here.

Outside the air smells like chimney exhaust and the gray clouds hang low — as though a fallen sky is what gives this season its name. The leaves are only beginning to turn, but the few that have made their way to the ground crunch like paper bags beneath our feet.

Inside Doyle is following the World Series and cheering for the fuzzy-faced Sox.

Every time I go to the store, I pick up another bag of candy. We will need at least five bags – five jumbo-sized bags – but it might be better to have seven. I just read in Business Week that Americans spend $6.9 billion getting their ghoul on each year — I think about $6.5 billion of that is spent in my neighborhood, which on Oct. 31 turns into one big cauldron of costumed craziness, smoking fire pits, and sugar highs. It can be a bit overwhelming, but the kids and I plan to pace ourselves this year.

Do we have enough candy?
Do we have enough candy?

The same is not true for our truly favorite holiday — Thanksgiving. The November issue of Food Network magazine arrived this week and Leeannah and I are already studying the pie recipes. This year she wants to make three – pumpkin chocolate chiffon, sweet potato streusel, and deep dish apple. I think this might be too ambitious, but we are only in the dreaming stage.

Usually at this time of year I can’t wait to get out of the city and get a better look at nature. But last weekend our mother-daughter group met at a house in Federal Hill. So, Leeannah and I trooped downtown to decorate pumpkins with the group — on their rooftop deck.

What a way to greet the season. We could see the whole city, the Inner Harbor, the stadiums, the rows upon rows of rowhouses, and those clouds that were practically shadowing us all weekend, they were so close. Baltimore looked great.

Leeannah couldn’t stop giggling. She thrilled at being on top of our world. But my favorite moment was when one of the girls broke out the glitter – a moment that usually makes a teacher type gasp as she imagines cleaning little sparkly specs out of a carpet.

I should have gasped. At the exact moment when the glitter was poured, a light breeze swirled around the deck and I suddenly found myself downwind of silver – and a whole lot of it. It blew onto my jacket, it stuck to my skin, and my whole being twinkled in the sunlight.

I loved it. I see enough of the gritty city every day. And there was just something so absurd about sitting on a rooftop deck and being covered in glitter that made me laugh.

I love this time of year.

Rooftop pumpkins
Rooftop pumpkins

Author: charmcitywriter

Teacher, writer, mother, pal

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