The Real Meaning of Fall

Whether you call it fall or autumn, it's the same. The air is brisk, leaves crackle and crunch beneath feet, the shouts of children coming out of school can be heard, and there's a scent in the air that's impossible to describe. Those are the first things I think of when the change of seasons from summer to fall comes around.

So why am I surrounded by piles of clothes in all sizes, shapes and colors? How did the simple task of putting away the laundry done last night turn everything into a disaster area?

Let's see. There were 7 loads of laundry last night, a mix of my daughter's clothes and mine, for both hot weather and cold weather. All those clean, fresh clothes needed to be put away. Winter clothes to drawers and closets, warm weather clothes to plastic bins until spring rolls around again. Easy enough. Take the wrong season clothes out of the drawer and put the right season in. That's pretty much a done deal now and didn't take a lot of time.

With not enough drawer space for the bulky items, the obvious task was to hang some in the closet. Easy, right? Uh, no. The closet was full. The few summer clothes were pulled out, only to discover formal wear, some of which hasn't been worn since, oh, 2002. Yikes! All await a new home and are resting on chairs and any other flat surface. Oh, and that formal wear of another daughter who had, I thought, bought a bin to store them in? She'll be taking care of those as soon as she gets home. Why? Because I said so. But I still have to deal with the blankets and who knows what the other daughter left behind in the closet when she moved into a different bedroom. Does it ever end? Maybe.

By tomorrow I hope to have it all sorted, put in proper places, and not have to worry until spring rolls around again. With luck, it won't be so bad. I wouldn't bet on that, though.

Such is fall.