ode to scarves.

I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with September.

On one hand, it’s JUSTNOTFAIR that summer is coming to an end.  The hubs and I hit a turning point this spring/summer when we actually started to meet and build some pretty great relationships with new people that we’ve met in Portland.  And we find ourselves constantly busy with festivals, happy hours and hikes.  (Please don’t read too much into this – I can still count my Portland acquaintances on one hand… and one of those acquaintances may or may not be my husband.  And another one may or may not be my dog, Gus.  And a third may or may not be the Starbucks barista who notices when I’ve worn heels one day and flats the next.)

On the other hand, I love fall!  Crisp air… golden leaves… and pumpkin lattes at every local coffee shop.  I also find myself much more physically active when the temperature cools down a wee bit.  It’s so much easier to go for a run when I’m not weighed down by the 17 food cart delicacies I tried the previous day at one food fest or another.  Fall is also the time when I can get away with shaving my legs every other (ok, maybe every 3rd) day.

But the bottom line is, my scarves are getting a little peeved that I’ve been weeping into them nightly, telling them how much I miss them.

So, for the sake of everything cotton/polyester blend, I am fully embracing fall with open arms.  As long as those arms are chock full of pumpkin spice lattes.  And scarves.

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