It's Fall. I know this because the thermometer read 44* when I woke at 430am. I don't think I am ready for layers of clothes and shoes that hide my toes. No, please, don't let it be!
Although we had a change in calendar this weekend that caused an elimination of something really fun I thought we'd doing Friday night...it was okay to just sit back and chillax.
It was a three day weekend for us so the house was bustling with girls galore on Thursday. The color guard came over to tye-dye their section shirts, eat pizza and ice creams, roast marshmallows and enjoy a backyard fire. When the color guard cleared house D and her possy took over the fire. Girls, girls, girls.
Friday was M getting her senior pictures taken. While D and King Ralph went apple picking. Princess A worked before scurrying off to SEMO for String Day...I think the saying was "we love live birth." String Day, the day the sorority girls take a "daughter." Even though Princess A is no longer at SEMO she still loves the AXO sisters. Evident as her dear friend arrived at our house and they hugged, smiled and loaded in the car. They made me smile.
Saturday we shopped for D's homecoming dress and took M's to the tailor for a nick and tuck. Then M celebrated friends' 18th birthdays at the apple orchard, D baby-sat and King Ralph and I sat in the leather recliners with nothing to say to each other...we just soaked the calm and silence of a teenagerless house for the evening while starring at the TV. I liked it. A weekend of no band. No football games. No competitions.
Sunday I cooked a meal of comfort foods for a Fall day. King Ralph and D made the dessert--apple pie, crust from scratch, filling from the apples they picked. Once we filled our bellies with beef roast, carrots, corn, smashed potatoes smothered in gravy...warm apple pie ala' mode was a perfect Fall finale.
This week, homecoming week, brings a calendar of obligations that stretch the entire week. The clock hands will tap M awake early and bring her home late. The one week I think I may say I HATE marching band.
Well I suppose I should go dig through the mound of shoes at the bottom of my closest to find closed toe shoes. UHG!