I promised my mother that in observation of her birthday I’d post mom stories throughout November. However, I need to briefly interrupt this series to ask a question.
Let me back up.
Autumn is my favorite season of the year.
To be completely honest, I fall for the charms of all four seasons. Spring, with its flirtatious colors and the first hint of longer days. Summer, seductive with its broad display of produce and extra vacation time, and winter, with its cozy clothes and generous sprinkling of holiday cheer.
What I’m saying is it’s possible I’ve said in earlier blog entries that another season is my favorite. If so, chalk it up to my fickle nature and disregard it. It’s all about autumn.
To begin with, I love that autumn is earthy. I love fall foliage. I love that it starts to rain. It’s the perfect time to prepare a cup of tea, take a blanket into the living room and read stretched out on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
I love that instead of flowers I use pumpkins as decorations around the house. I love that this is the time of year where I buy a big wreath I use as centerpiece on my living room table.
This season, more than any other, reminds me that I’m a member of the animal kingdom. I get an irrepressible urge to gather and store food for the winter. This means I shop for vegetables, chop them and make industrial amounts of soup, which I then freeze and use in the months ahead.
Unfortunately, it also means this is the time I get the hungriest. There is so much food around, and my body seems to want to prepare itself for the brutal, harsh months ahead (forgetting that I’m in Northern California and that I spend most of the week indoors.)
So my question is, is it me, or does autumn make you eat more?