The Last Hurrah....For a While

At this time tomorrow I should be sitting in the Newark airport anxiously awaiting the boarding call for our first flight across the pond in over 2 years.  Maybe I won't be as anxious as I am right now...but I might.  International travel is so different these days!  To say we have had to jump through a few hoops is an understatement.  Add to the forms we have had to fill out and papers we need to be sure we have access to at all times, the ever-changing rules and regulations for travel in the times of Covid and you find yourself questioning everything.  Plus, there is the added uncertainty as to whether in 10 days when we have to fill out more forms and jump through more hoops to come home, if the rules will have changed again.  No reason for anxiety at all.  Not to mention the more serious stuff like, "what clothes do I pack for temperatures from 30-60 F?"  "What pants can I pack that go with my knee brace?"  "How many pairs of shoes do I need? Can't they see I am wearing a knee brace?  Cute boots or flats are just not working for me right now."  Yes, we are looking forward to the trip and I am hoping as soon as my feet walk out of the airport on the other side, I will breathe a deep sigh of relief and it will all be worth it!

Looking forward to strolling over these bridges again!

Let's just say, I am trying to make the most of the days I have left before my post-surgery recovery begins.  With each passing day, since February 2nd, my knee has felt better.  There was that one day...after the time I walked "as far as I could" just to see how far my limit was, that I "felt it"...a lot!  Some rest, elevation and ice were on the menu the next day.  At least now I know my limit.  To say my knee is on my mind for much of each day is an understatement, although thankfully, I am not in constant pain.  I really look forward to the day it never even enters my mind!  For now, I am diligently doing my exercises, icing and elevating when possible, and paying attention to my body.  I figure, the stronger I am going into surgery, the stronger I will be coming out.  

Speaking of surgery, the date has been set for April 6.  I plan to live it up until then...relatively speaking!  Sadly, I know I am going to feel a lot better going in than I will coming out.  I am trying to mentally prepare myself for this smack down, but can one really prepare to be smacked into 6 months of rehab?  I just keep telling myself I am going to take it one day at a time.  Talk about a drastic way to make a person focus on the present.

Before I get smacked down though...we are heading to the land of pasta and gelato.  We had lots of other plans for the spring, and it took a few weeks to rearrange those plans.  We now have a very busy Fall to provide rehab motivation!  One thing that did not get cancelled was a trip to Italy with our oldest daughter, her husband and their 3 sons.  When my doctor said, " Take your trip to Italy, we will do surgery when you get back." it was music to my ears.  It also motivated me even more to do those exercises every day!  Italy has been a giant carrot dangling in front of me.  I am looking at it as my last hurrah before the giant smack down and the long road home.  I plan to savor every minute.  Even the minutes spent lost, tired, arguing, cold, wet and hungry in a foreign country...because they will inevitably be part of the experience too.  Arrivederci!

Gutted

It was all sunshine and blue skies the first two and a half days!

And just like that...everything changed. At 12:30 on 02/02/22 I was flying down a mountain, well maybe not flying...but exceeding my internal speed limit, when I decided to slow down and turn.  Not exactly sure what came first the pop of my knee or the fall, but I was down, and I knew I wasn't going to be skiing much more that day.  With the help of two kind men, I was able to get my skis off, get up, put my skis back on and ski, ever so slowly and carefully, down to a lift and ask for them to call ski patrol.  Funny how life can change in a moment.

You can't see it, but I am giving the camera a very "mean" face. 
Not the way I was hoping to get to the bottom of a ski hill...ever again!

As we stood there waiting for the ski patrol to arrive so many thoughts went through my head.  How bad is this?  So much for skiing this week... or this year! Is this going to require surgery?  Will I ever ski again...and if I can, do I dare?  What are we going to do about all of those plans we made for the spring?  Am I going to have to ride down the mountain in the "sled of shame" again?  Maybe they will just let me sit on the back of the snowmobile?  Wishful thinking.  It was back in the "sled of shame" for me.  At least this time I was feeling a lot better than the last time I got a free ride to the bottom.  Luckily this time, the first place I went to was not the hospital, it was to the mountain clinic.  X-rays were done, nothing was broken.

When you fall skiing, there is a risk of a head injury.  Yes, I was wearing a helmet and "no" I did not hit my head.  The medical staff asked me many times, my birthdate and what happened, presumably to check for any head injury.  I passed.  Unfortunately, I also had to tell rooms full of people how old I was, my height and ....my weight.  No problems with that one, right ladies?  Yeah, so far...not one of my favorite days.

If I heard it once, I heard it several times...."at your age, blah blah blah".  You would think I was 90 years old!  I don't even qualify for Medicare yet, (thank you very much) which turns out to be a big problem when your husband is retired and on Medicare and you are not.  Things are a lot more complicated in healthcare limbo.  No worries, just a temporary pain in the ass.  The clinic gave me a nice, hinged brace, which has become my new best friend, and told me to be sure to see an orthopedic doctor when I got home. The rest of the ski week was spent resting, icing, compressing and elevating (RICE) on the couch in the condo.

Experiencing some serious FOMO perched on the sofa.

The next morning, I woke up, in pain.  After TJ served me breakfast, made tea for me and I was safely perched on the sofa for the day, he went skiing.  Before he left, he dutifully turned on the dishwasher.  I sat and looked out of the window and tried not to cry.  After about an hour I hobbled my way to the bathroom and noticed I could still hear the water running, which I had assumed was the dishwasher...which should have been done by then.  I had a sinking feeling I might look into the kitchen and see water coming out from under the dishwasher all over the kitchen floor, but there wasn't.  I could still hear water though.  I went back into the bathroom and then I realized it... the giant-jetted-hot-tub in the bedroom had water running into it.  A litany of swear words flew out of my mouth when I went in and saw 2 ski boots and 3 suitcases floating in a hot tub with the water level almost to the top!  Just what me and my injured knee needed today!  Apparently, when TJ sat on the edge of the tub to put on his socks, he accidentally turned the faucet on and did not hear the water running over the dishwasher.  I didn't hear it either... because the dishwasher was running.  A comedy of errors.  All I can say is boy am I glad I had to go to the bathroom!

And why, you may ask, do we store our bags in the tub?
Because, it is huge, we never use it, and there is no other storage for this stuff in the condo.

If I was worried about getting any exercise that day, I had no worries now.  Suitcases full of water are VERY heavy!  The water was HOT so plunging my arm in to pull up the drain was exciting.  Thankfully, during my panic, a friend called to see how my knee was doing and managed to talk me through the clean-up.  Fireplace to the rescue!  After I emptied the tub, then the water out of the suitcases and the boots, I wiped everything off and lined it up in front of the fire.  The rest of the afternoon was spent on the couch rotating suitcases and boots in front of the fireplace.  Can't make this stuff up!

This is how you dry your suitcases
when they finish relaxing in the hot tub.

The rest of my ski week was spent running one scenario after another through my head.  I decided not to get too upset just yet because we did not know exactly what was wrong with my knee.  It could be a minor injury, or it could be a bigger issue.  Judging by the pop and the pain, I had a sneaking suspicion it was more than a minor issue.  The waiting game begins.

Once we got home, I went to see an orthopedic surgeon on a Wednesday.  He sent me in for an MRI on Thursday.  Finally, on Tuesday the doctor called with the results.  The minute I heard the word ACL I knew it was bad news.  Full ACL tear and partial medial meniscal tear.  He suggests surgery, especially if I want to lead an active life.  Plus, he did not say, "At your age..."   he said, "You are too young not to do this."   Can he turn back the hands of time on the rest of my body when he goes in?  To quote a Great British Baking Show contestant when they get eliminated, I was "gutted" after the phone call.  

When do I have time to go in and have a surgery that will take 8-12-24 weeks to recover and rehab from?  Before TJ retired, he made sure he scheduled a trip or activity every month from February through September.  Something is going to have to give.  Choices are going to have to be made and sacrifices will happen.  I am pretty sure that the top thing on his retirement "things to do" list was not "take care of your wife after she has knee surgery".  I feel terrible!  And I'm not just talking about my knee.

If you know anything about me, you know I am busy trying to figure out how to have my cake and eat it too.  How can I go on "some" of the scheduled trips, have surgery, rehab, and move on with life?  Retirement was supposed to be so much better!  After 2 years of a pandemic, putting big plans on hold, now we have the time, only to be put on hold once again.  I am sure there is some deeper cosmic meaning and lesson to be learned from all of this, but I am currently not in the right mind to see it.  Maybe my perspective will all be in hindsight.

Deciding whether to run...or hobble in and have surgery now or postpone it until after at least one of our "already planned and scheduled" events is my current dilemma.  I know...first world problems.

I am also acutely aware that 6 months is a proportionately larger part of the life I have left to live than it used to be.  Not to be morbid, just being real. Time and days are suddenly at a premium. Why waste a few months being in pain and postponing the inevitable?  Regardless, ACL reconstruction and meniscal repair surgery is in my near future.  Yipee!  

If any of you out there have experience with this surgery, I am all ears.  How long did it take you to feel even close to normal?  What should I expect?  Putting my life on hold for at least 3 months is slightly overwhelming right now.  So... I am gutted.  Stay tuned for a better attitude.  

A Tale of Two Seasons

It occurred to me tonight as we were on a shuttle from Main Street in Park City to our hotel, that I do have to thank the pandemic for one thing.  Because, really, what is a pandemic if nothing good can come of it?  We are here on at least our 20th ski trip to the area, yes, we are thankful!  We have been coming here since either 1996 or 97, in ski season.  Until the year 2020, I only knew this place as a ski destination. A place covered in snow with trees all lit up with white lights at night and people bundled up, full of life, after a day of fresh air on the ski slopes.  I had friends who spent their summers here and raved about what a great place it was in the summer and told us we should visit sometime in the summer... but we spend our summers in Nova Scotia.  That is...until 2020.  

The Park City I knew and loved!

In the year 2020, we were unable to go to Nova Scotia for the summer and we came here instead.  We did the same thing in 2021, until we could finally get into Canada. They were all correct!  This is a great place to be in the summer.  Being able to experience both summer and winter in Park City has been a real treat.  Tonight, we were remembering riding our bikes to town for a 4th of July parade.  We ate dinner very close to where we parked our bikes, it brought back fond memories.  I like the fact that I now know what those golf courses look like when they are green...and white!  I like that I know what the ski slopes look like in the off season. 

The view from my bike last summer. 
 I'll be skiing those mountains this week!

  

Having come here for several weeks, two summers in a row, I feel differently towards Park City.  She has so many different dimensions now.  I know what the views out of the church windows look like in two seasons.  Believe me, those windows are inspirational in either season!  I know the buzz in town at night after a great day on the ski slopes in addition to the buzz on the streets in the summer on the weekend during Park Silly Market.  I have now played golf on those courses that I look down on from the ski slopes.  I rode my bike on those now icy, snowy streets last summer and ate meals at the same places under fans and now heat lamps. 

I know this may not be news to some of you who live in places with distinctly different seasons, but for this Texas girl, it is a big deal.  Tonight, I was very happy to feel a kinship with my 2nd or 3rd "home"...at least for the last 2 years.  Thank you, pandemic.

2021...The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat

Welcome 2022...if you are nice to us, you can become our favorite year of the '20's so far!  Competition is not that tough though.  I have heard so many people say that 2021 was a bad year for them and they are looking forward to 2022 being a lot better. I sure hope they all get their wish! January is when many of us review the past year and consider what we hope the new year will bring.  To me, last year flew by on first reflection, but upon closer examination, it was a long year!  Think of where we started, where we have been and where we finally ended up.  Last year began with the death of my father and the birth of a grandson.  I am pretty sure those two events set the stage for what would be a year not unlike the old catch phrase from the Wide World of Sports opening.  "The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat"  only in reverse.

Last year it seemed every dark moment was followed by a moment of hope and optimism which in turn was followed by darkness and the cycle repeated itself over and over.  I find myself not even knowing how to feel sometimes.  Consider last January.  Aside from the personal emotional rollercoaster of that month, the world was reeling from a spike in Covid cases, thanks to the holidays.  And who can blame us?  After almost a year of "flattening the curve" people just needed to be with their families.  Anyhow...January was when the first doses of the vaccine were being distributed and with them came some hope.  The next few months were spent trying to get as many of us vaccinated with the hope of making Covid go away.  Hope.  Those dark days of January were followed by the spring, and we all were feeling "protected" and finally comfortable to go out to dinner, get together with friends, shop, maybe even travel.  By May we were practically giddy.  And by June our new friend Delta entered the picture.  You see where I am going with this as far as Covid is concerned.  Every time we felt like we had this thing under control, felt free to live our lives and did, something changed, and we ended up at what keeps feeling like Groundhog Day.  The thrill of victory followed by the agony of defeat.

2021 seemed like a pretty good year to me, all things considered. After spending so much time alone together in 2020, we enjoyed the relative freedom of being with friends and family in 2021.  In 2021 we traveled around the states again but this year, we felt so much safer...until we didn't.  In 2021 we began the summer still wondering if and when we would be able to visit Nova Scotia, a bit defeating.  Then we found out we could visit in August, thrill of victory!  

There was that family vacation we planned in Park City at the beginning of August that completely fell apart due to Covid complications.  Thrill of victory followed by agony of defeat, followed by me unexpectedly able to fly to San Francisco to help my daughter and her family move into their new home.  Our year was spent making plans, adjusting our plans, cancelling our plans and making new plans.  Through it all, we did try our best to make the most of our days.  

We finally made it to Nova Scotia again in 2021 and any year we make it to the shore is a good year.  Thrill of victory.  We also had to jump through a few hoops to get there and back but they were worth it.  

After a Thanksgiving for 2 in 2020, we celebrated with 7 other people in 2021.  It was luxurious!  We were definitely thankful for the blessing of being together and being healthy.  Christmas 2021 was full of family...thrill of victory, but not unaffected by Covid cancellations...agony of defeat.  While we certainly missed the ones who could not travel, we were thankful for the ones who could.  I still find myself wondering what we are supposed to all learn and take away from the last 2 years.  Count the blessings in front of us?  Be flexible?  Don't worry or celebrate too much because it is all going to change soon? 

 I am not sure how this year is going to stack up.  One thing for sure, it will be a year like no other for us.  Today marks the last day of work for TJ.  After a career covering 44 years, 5 relocations, 15 different bosses, 6 different companies, thousands of miles flown and driven, hundreds of sales calls made as well as conferences attended and a few "side deals", he is retiring.  This uncharted territory has us feeling both excited and terrified.  I am sure that TJ being TJ, will figure out a way to fill his days over capacity with many legitimate and/or outlandish activities.  A few years ago, BC (before Covid), we looked forward to TJ's retirement and had big plans to travel around the world, or at least part of it, for an extended time.  We saved for this.  We dreamed about it.  It was a giant carrot dangling in front of us at the end of his career.  Those plans were put on the back burner sometime in 2020 just waiting for a bright green light to motivate us to start planning again.  My hope is that we are able to finally take this trip before we are too old and decrepit.  A friend shared a funny thought in her Christmas letter this year.  She said we are in the Go-Go years which will be followed by the Go-Slow years and end with our No-Go years.  We just want to Go while we still have it!

I for one, am hoping 2022 is less of a roller coaster and more of a monorail ride.  High in the air, moving forward at a steady pace. Cheers to 2022!  May you be the year we all want and need!

  

Hopeful Cookies

 Greetings!  This will likely be my last post for 2021.  There is so much to say and so little time or energy to say it these days.  Three years now and we are yet to have what feels like a "traditional" Christmas.  I feel like gone are the days of piling wrapped gifts under the tree with the collection growing larger every day in anticipation of the intended recipients.  Gone are the days of baking for days before Christmas in anticipation of a full house.  As much as I love all those baked goods, I am pretty sure after my physical in a week my doctor will once again scold me for rising blood sugar and extra weight, so the yummy Christmas treats will look more like vegetables than buttery delicious cookies.  But then again, maybe not!  Willpower is not my strong suit!  

We are in the final week before Christmas.  We have two of our grandchildren staying with us this week while their parents move everything into their new home in Boston.  Nothing makes you feel your age like trying to care for a 6-year-old and 3-year-old when you are "of a certain age".  I am so glad I had my kids when I was young!  No wonder I didn't drink back then...who had the time or the energy?  Probably lucky for them too.  Also, no wonder I was so much thinner when I was young, in addition to the no drinking, there was no sitting on the couch either.  Parenting young children is not for wimps.  It does have its rewards though!  Today we reaped some of those rewards.  We took the kids to Mass this morning.  I have been to church with many young children and usually found myself questioning why we were expected to have those children and bring them to church when there was no way I was going to be able to pay attention to anything read or spoken during that Mass because I was constantly corralling the children.  Today, the children were perfectly, well...almost, behaved and I even heard what was read, spoken and sung during church. So much so that one song brought tears to my eyes.  Breath of Heaven is worth a listen to get you in the spirit.  It was a Christmas miracle!

After a dreary, rainy day yesterday, today was chilly and sunny and everyone was happy to be outdoors.  I thought it would be fun to bring the kids to town center and see the giant Christmas tree.  Little did I know that there was an outdoor market set up today around the town square.  Bonus!  The kids were enchanted with the tree, and I sprung for a couple of pre-Christmas treats for them.  It is starting to feel a bit like Christmas.  The rest of the day was spent playing at the playground, helping Grampy build my Christmas gift in the garage, building our new Lego, reading lots of books, walking around the neighborhood and eating all of the fruit in the house.  We ended the day watching a couple of cute kiddie Christmas Disney+ shows.  I am a sucker for a cute Disney show.  I think they are as tired as we are at the end of the day because we don't hear a peep out of them when they go to bed.  All is good...so far.  We are only at the end of day 2 though.  

Sugar Land, Texas

Because who doesn't love a giant Christmas tree and a lizard hand puppet?

Grampy's assistant helping build Gigi's Christmas gift.

This year, our focus is definitely not on the material things.  Christmas gifts are an afterthought.  In the front of our minds are these two kids, who we will miss so much when they move north and the rest of our family.  Many of us will be together for the first time in a very long time.  That is, if all goes to plan and these days, nothing goes according to plan.  Living a life where making plans comes with a caveat that those plans may well be cancelled depending on the current situation is mentally and emotionally challenging.  I like to go "all in" when I make a plan, so knowing in the back of my mind that any number of circumstances could change those plans makes it all feel so halfway.  My heart can't commit, and if your heart can't commit, why bother?  I find myself committing and just setting myself up for disappointment.  It happens.  A by-product of the last almost 2 years.  I don't' like it, just in case anyone wants to know. 

 So, while our house will be fuller than in the previous 2 Christmas', we are guarded in knowing that in a moment, it could all change.  So...no baking just yet.  I just can't look at hopeful cookies before I know I have help to eat them.  It's weird...right?  In the meantime, we have two very sweet and excited children to bring to the forefront the true joy of Christmas, and for that we are very thankful!  Merry Christmas everyone!  May the joy of Christmas through a child's eyes be yours!

Control

A little God wink today for all the control freaks out there.  Maybe it is something we all need to be reminded of. Maybe it is my gift to you today and maybe it is just something to give you a bit of a giggle.

I was out running some Christmas errands today.  Far be it from me to do anything well ahead of time when I can wait until the last minute.  I was picking up a gift for a gift exchange, getting the ingredients I needed to make the appetizer I am bringing to the gift exchange party and throwing in some random gift shopping for the family.  I was not necessarily rushed, and it was not an altogether unpleasant experience unless you factor in the fact that it is still 80 degrees, and I wore as mask for all of these errands...bah humbug.  I almost felt productive.

I was on my way home and noticed how poorly I had timed my return.  It was now "school zone" time and in the one-giant-school-zone I pass through to get home there are 4 schools that let out at varying times.  Traffic is a nightmare from 2:35-4.  As I approached one particularly backed up light and looked ahead at a solid line of cars on the other side of the light going nowhere, I decided to be clever and scoot into the right lane and turn onto the cross street and go home the back way.  I figured it would be forever before I made it through the light and then through the next light before I got to my turn.  It was smooth sailing until I reached the front of the high school and the traffic guard held up his hand for me to stop. I sat there as 25-30 school buses proceeded to pull out in front of me...one after another, they just kept on coming out of the school!

As I sat there, waiting for an eternity watching the yellow line in front of me get longer and longer, the song on the radio came into my consciousness and I listened to the lyrics.  The name of the song was Control by For King and Country and listening to the lyrics I just had to laugh at myself for trying to be so clever and take control of my situation.  I must have needed to slow down, sit for a few minutes and listen.  Even if it was just traffic...I was reminded that at the end of the day, I am not in control of it all and I just have to trust there is a higher power at work in my life.  

I give up control, 
Body, mind, and soul, 
Can't do this on my own, alone, no
I give up control

Transitions

I started this post weeks ago...in September.  Rather than deleting it, I decided it was still relevant and figure I can just add to it.  Hard to believe we have been "home" for 5 weeks already.  Real life has filled our days so much that finishing a blog post always seems to draw the short straw.  Enjoy the fall reflection here and yes, I am still wearing my tired summer clothes and running the AC all day.  Where do you live and is fall in your neighborhood?  May I come visit?

September is a month of transitions, regardless of your stage in life.  It is the month school traditionally began until they moved it into August...sigh.  It is the month we say goodbye to the freedom of summer.  September is the month life returns to a more focused and structured pattern.  The days begin to get shorter and in many places...the weather changes.  Not sure what that all about, but I hear it happens.  Your wardrobe changes.  After months of flip flops, shorts, bathing suits and lightweight clothing, the weather, or life, dictates a wardrobe change in September.  Unless you live down south where the only thing that dictates a wardrobe change in September is wishful thinking.  I have always "theoretically" liked September.

Visions of fall colors dancing in my head.

Living in the south, September inevitably disappoints me.  For most of my life, we spent much of August in Canada and August was the month things like school supplies, and more importantly, fall clothing, appeared in the stores.  I always idealized that distinct change of season...and wardrobe.  I had high hopes of going home and being able to wear pants and shirts with sleeves and maybe a sweater...but instead, when we arrived home, the weather dictated my very tired summer clothes stay in the daily rotation.  Things are no different even returning as late as mid September...so much for that ideal fall season down south.   

The pace of life changes in September, even if our wardrobe doesn't.   School zones are back in effect and the ebb and flow of life follows more structure.  I kind of like structure.  I can remember the bumpy entry into the fall schedule with the kids every year because we chose to return from Nova Scotia at the very last minute possible.  After a summer of relative freedom and unstructured days we suddenly had to be places at specific times, wearing certain clothes and do it all indoors!  The drastic change never came without some rebellion...from both the kids and the adults.  Every year, within a couple of weeks, we had bumped our way into our new rhythm of life.  Transition complete...bring on the football games!

This year was no different.  After a summer on the road, we spent the first few weeks re-engaging...and perspiring.  TJ was back to a regular work schedule that after 18 months involved a couple of business trips.  Can I say it was both strange and enjoyable to be home..in my own house...alone... for the first time in a very long time?  The luxury of having full access to the remote control cannot be underestimated.  Especially when you have not watched TV in 3 months.  I had a lot of catching up to do.  Life almost seemed normal after a couple weeks.  

A few things that have made life feel closer to pre-pandemic times involve weddings.  So many couples ended up postponing or cancelling their weddings in the pandemic.  Now it seems there is a huge rush to the altar.  Go for it!  We have attended a bridal shower and an engagement party over the past 5 weeks.  These gatherings are so overdue!  Everyone is thrilled for these young people and to be able to gather once again and celebrate with them feels wonderful.  Happy times together have been on hold and are even sweeter now.  This only confirms in my mind how essential togetherness is in our existence.  

Speaking of wardrobe changes...has anyone braved shopping lately?  I was humbled and perplexed a couple of weeks ago when I was forced to go out there.  First off...maybe I am not exactly in the same shape I was pre-pandemic.  Secondly, what the H-E- double hockey sticks??!  Who decided that we needed to look like we came out of the pandemic and entered The Little House on the Prairie?  After a couple of humiliating and frustrating efforts to find appropriate clothing for a social gathering I have come to the conclusion that designers are just trying to get back at us for not buying anything for over a year.  Ugh!  Maybe they added giant puffy sleeves to detract from the waistlines that expanded during our extended homestays.  I found myself lost.  Where did I shop before?  Why are all of these clothes so ugly?  What brands used to fit me?  Where do I buy pants to fit me?  And, seriously...high waisted bell-bottoms?  Been there, done that. The downside of rejoining society and going "out" again is remembering how to dress for public again.  I am pretty sure yoga pants, running shorts, hiking clothes or golf clothes are not what people wear to parties.  My closet is full of things that look tired and neglected.  I have been forced to dust off my dormant sense of style and reinvent my wardrobe.  I will not be wearing anything that resembles Laura Ingles Wilder.

There you have it.  Re-entering life at home and slowly entering post pandemic life or just living more fully in a pandemic.  Still wishing for more fall-like weather and searching for clothes to wear in real life.  I hope you are enjoying pumpkin season in a cozy sweater where you live!