It is cold this morning, with a thick fog blanketing the trees.
I have to say I love, love, love fall.
I love the cool weather and cozying up in front of a fire.
I love seeing little kids bundled up, little knit hats shoved
down over their heads, as they walk to school in the morning.
And I love pumpkins.
I loved seeing all of the pumpkins lit on porches and sidewalks
on halloween night, and the golden light pouring out through
the spaces in the jack o'lanterns smiles.
I love pumpkin muffins, pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie.
Especially one-handed pumpkin pie, eaten for breakfast,
the morning after thanksgiving.
There is no need for a plate...
just pick it up and toss it back. Yummy!
I replaced the tahitian vanilla candle in the hurricane
on my coffee table with a pumpkin spice candle
and it is filling the room with it's subtle pumpkin-y goodness.
And since yesterday, I now love a pair of
over fluffy bright orange pumpkin socks
with jack o'lanterns embroidered on the sides.
They were a gift from my mother-in-law for halloween.
She is a fantastic giver of gifts and I love her for it.
But when I first saw these socks, I thought,
I do not think I will ever wear them. Not in this lifetime.
I had sock pride. No crazy pumpkin socks for me.
I, myself, usually play it straight when it comes to socks.
White socks. Trouser socks. The occasional black and brown.
Socks that are the fiery color of the sun's core? Not so much.
But yesterday as the temperature dropped and my bare feet were turning
to frigid blocks of ice, I began ransacking the house for socks.
I have to confess this last week, laundry has not been a priority.
And as fate would have it, all I could find were my pumpkin socks.
So I slipped them on and lo and behold, their over-fluffiness
encased my frozen feet and massaged them into toasty warmness.
They also seemed to pick up every stray piece of lint in the house.
Which can be beneficial if you have dirty floors like I do.
I wore them all day. Without shame.
My sock pride had been humbled by a lovingly fleecy pair of socks.
Even now as I am typing and my feet are cramping in the cold,
I am wondering, where are my lovely warmth giving festive booties?
So as you can see, I am officially old.
I am not caring about what they look like, only the comfort they can give.
Next time you see me,
I may be wearing orthopedic shoes with arch support.
But take a moment to ponder this...
maybe you are trying to save some money on your heating bill
and a pair of fluffified socks are part of your answer.
Maybe there are no white, subdued beige
or subtle gray puffy socks to be found.
Don't judge a sock by its color.
I give you permission to go with a shocking magenta or violent purple,
apparently they have a purpose to serve as well.
Even socks with appliqued pumpkins on the side.