It's fall ya'll. The leaves are turning. The evenings are cold. And our home smells like pumpkin spice candles. Outside feels crisp. Oliver is distracted by every. single. leaf. And our windows are staying closed more and more.
I'm making things like VanBebber Chili and Matt and I are reading "To Kill a Mockingbird" and talking about Atticus and Scout and Jem. We are enjoying our back porch and drinking cider.
I found the very best cider recipe. It is delicious. I would drive across town to deliver it to you. Literally. I hope you make a batch, and imagine it's from me (and the Pioneer Woman).
We took this punkin to the pumpkin patch. In Half Moon Bay. You know, across from the ocean. Because that is where we live. Still. 4 months in and it still feels so strange.
The squirrels ate the pumpkins that we brought home from the pumpkin patch. They are racing along the fences fighting with each other and with the birds. Oliver is fascinated. They are very fat. Presumably from the pumpkins. And the half eaten apples that litter our yard. Because we have an apple tree. No really. We do. In our yard.
Oliver is getting around on his two legs. Almost. He's scaling the walls, roaming around with his walker... completely independently. As in, he can turn a 360 without assistance. We are weeks away from walking. We hope. Matt and I have a wager.
Happy fall. Drink some cider. Imagine it's from me.