anticipation

There's so much of me that's all wrapped up in anticipation at the cusp of a season's change. And it seems especially so in the transition from summer to autumn, my two favorite seasons. As Paige and I were rocking on the porch swing tonight, reading out of her big fairy tale book (which is already so loved my next project is to repair it's spine) and generally chilling before bed, I noticed how very early the sun has decided to set.
It's so cool tonight... crisp enough that on the porch, I am thinking I will soon need a quilt for the swing. I feel a project coming on.
Tonight I'm thinking about all the things I'm anticipating. And how much I love anticipating, in ways... and do not, in others. Let's be honest here. I'm not a patient woman. When I want something done, I generally pursue it to the finish line. Right. Now. And perhaps there is a lesson for me in the relentless pursuit of the next accomplishment. I savor the anticipation. For 10 minutes. Then I want what I want, right now.
I just felt tonight like I needed to remind myself that waiting is half the fun. Once you get to the apple orchard, take our your sweaters, shut the windows and bleed the radiators, collect leaves on the parkway, fall clean, wash the thicker quilt and lay it out on the bed, start (with a bit of chagrin) to wear socks again, put away the sandals, start drinking hot coffees in the morning, need a sweatshirt for the morning jog... it's over. Autumn's done, and the pumpkins are frostbitten and saggy like sad little old men, and the snow comes and it's cold and dark and lonesome for the next 4 months.