Tuesday, October 1, 2013


One of the things that will take some adjusting to in the U.S. is probably switching from metric to imperial. I've used meters, liters and Celsius to measure things all my life. I have no idea how much an ounce is, and I have no concept of yards or Fahrenheit. My calendars start on a Monday, not a Sunday. My Autumn starts on September 1st, not September 21st (although that may be just Trevor insisting to be astronomically correct). Also, I call it Autumn more than I call it Fall. The English taught in schools in Europe is British English and I don't think half the people who speak it as a foreign language know it by the name 'Fall' (yes, I make up my own Mickey-statistics system).

Fall (aka Autumn) is Trevor's favorite season. He's just decided that last year, so let's give him credit.

Mine is spring, but Autumn comes a close second. Autumn for me is an acquired taste.

Autumn always meant going back to school. There's no school to get back to this year, but there's definitely some learning to do. 

Autumn means wearing colorful cardigans, scarves and boots, probably the most comfortable clothes to wear. It means not suffering from the heat and the sweat but still not dressing in layers and turning into an immobile robotic figure; this is the perfect season to be comfy.

Autumn means going to the park and running in the leaves (watch out for dog poop though). While I'm there…

Autumn means picking rusty leaves and tawny acorns and shiny chestnuts.  And…

Sitting on a bench and reading a book.

Autumn is eating white grapes. Maybe supplement that by drinking white wine.

Autumn is going back to drinking hot tea. And ...

Learning something new.

Autumn is all about fighting my way through a quince. I really like the bitter flavor and the aftertaste. 

This year Autumn means going to the Apple Festival in this small Pennsylvania town, buying apple pie and eating it all in one day. 

This year Autumn means going to the farms and picking out a pumpkin and cooking it into a delicious soup and a pie. This year Autumn means eating tomatoes and peppers from our own garden.

This year Autumn means picking marigolds from our flower boxes and putting them on our table.

This year Autumn really means being together, and looking forward to my first American Thanksgiving. Halloween, not so much. 

This year Autumn means having fresh apple cider (with a little spiced rum).

I asked Trevor what Autumn means to him. Like a true man, he answered: football and marching bands. (He said more than that, but those were the first two things he mentioned.)

Autumn means listening to Manic Street Preachers' Autumn Song on repeat. It doesn't even make sense to me anymore; I just do it.


  1. I'm from Romania so I totally get every piece from the beginning or your nice post. I'm curios: what European country are you from?

  2. I've kinda made it a point to keep my blog European and not country-specific. But I'll find a way to answer you in private. Thanks for stopping by.


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