Autumn is by far my favorite season. The trees changing colors, the crispness in the air, the cool breezes and frigid nights, the gray skies, pumpkin spice lattes (it's facebook official), country night drives with the windows rolled down, a fire in the hearth, my jacket pulled tight around me, steaming cups of coffee and the dead leaves with wrinkled and throbbing veins at my feet. There's a lot of reasons to love this season, and I'd be amiss if I failed to mention ornamental gourds and Indian corn:
The gourds I bought yesterday to kick in the season aren't quite as awesome, but they're mood-lifting nonetheless. I'm writing this with a cup of delicious diner coffee and wearing blue jeans and my blue sweater (which, I'm told, I look adorable in).
This evening Blake, Andy and I went to Cracker Barrel in Kentucky. Blake made an excellent first impression, though the wonderful hostess seemed to take offense when he didn't know much about the Pixar movie Cars. We had to wait, so we went outside and Blake & Andy played a game of chess, and Andy would've won had our name not been called. On our way into the dining room I knocked something over, and the hostess politely asked me not to destroy the store. Back at the table we enjoyed a hefty breakfast for dinner: both Blake and I got steak and eggs with biscuits & gravy, and Andy drank glass after glass of lemonade. I couldn't finish my food, felt so stuffed, so I excused myself to have a cigarette, and on the way out I knocked over yet another piece of merchandise in their showroom. I turned to the hostess and said, "So sorry about that." She just laughed. I went outside and paced back-and-forth across the patio with the chess sets and rocking chairs, and there was a cute girl who just got off and saw me and smiled and stood there and said it was cold and I agreed and said nothing more, and she looked at me and then walked away. That's how I roll. After gorging ourselves, Blake, Andy and I watched the second Sherlock Holmes movie, and in that fashion the first day of autumn came to an end.
I'm really not sure why I retold that story.
It's not really noteworthy at all.
But this is my blog, and this is my life, and these are the things that happen.
Now Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" is playing on the jukebox.
I don't hate it, and I'm kind of ashamed to admit that.
The waitress just offered a customer his dollar back.
"Sometimes," she says, "the jukebox just plays this song, and I'm betting you didn't pick it."
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