Fall. Dammit

I’m a pretty positive guy. I really am. My wife has called me, when she’s had enough of my too-rosy outlook, “Pollyanna.” Every time she does, I get really mad and I sputter around a little and I can never think of a comeback.

When it comes to this time of the year, though, I’m a scowling pessimist. The trees are pretty and all (the photo above is our backyard in early November).  The heat of a Georgia summer has started to back off a little, which is nice. But none of that fools me. I know what’s on the other side. Dead leaves. Gray skies. Days that are too short. Too much rain.

Even in Georgia, winter sucks. Not as bad as in Minnesota, I’d imagine, or Vermont. But, hey, we’ve had ice storms here that have just about knocked out this city. Some day, I’ll post about that snowy, icy night last year when I couldn’t get home and had to spend the night with three priests in the priest house. I’m sure there’s a word for “priest house.”

Anyway, it was not nearly as fun as it sounds.

So, screw you, Fall. Pollyanna this.

This is next. Dammit.
This is next. Dammit.

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