Teetering on the Precipice

Here it is, the Saturday evening before school begins anew, and I feel the muse pull at me, urging me to write down my thoughts.

This is my very favourite time of year, for many reasons. First and foremost, I love autumn. The crispness in the air, the smell of cold on the wind, the bright, sunny late summer days, the way the sun shines through the vividly coloured leaves as they gently drift to the ground. I love the crunch of dry leaves under my boots, the sweaters, the warm drinks, the rainy days that give me an excuse to curl up under a blanket on the couch, put on a much-loved movie, and create something with my hands. I love wrapping my hands around a warm drink, sitting down to a big bowl of stew with dumplings, or having the house cool enough to bake again. It's all about putting away the accoutrements of summer and pulling out the hand-knits and throw blankets; trading iced vanilla lattes for  steaming mugs of chai or apple cider; retiring shorts in favour of my fuzzy polar fleece pajama pants.

*sigh*

It also means that my beloved husband and children will return to the routine of school. I love this for a whole host of other reasons - the house becomes more calm during the day, I get more crafts done, and my home has a chance of staying clean for more than 30 minutes at a time.

This year is different for me, because my youngest, my baby, sweet little Quarta is starting her educational journey in earnest. She will start Kindergarten on Tuesday, and I find the feeling a little bittersweet; I am both eager to have the house to myself during the day, and unsure of how I will actually feel about it when it happens. Will I miss hearing her random, "Guess what Mummy? I love you!" throughout the day? Will I feel a twinge of sadness knowing I am alone in the house - well, alone as one can be when there are two cats living there? Will I be filled with pride for my littlest hobbit, watching her take those first real steps toward independence? I have a feeling that I'll be a mix of all of it, all jumbled together in a messy, tear-streamed, smiling package.

So bring it on, autumn - I'm ready for you.