Fall(ing) into Fall
I'm corny. I know this.
Fall has so many associations for me, so I'm really excited about this topic.
Of course, I am always falling behind with things I need to do:
Clean house? Uh, little behind on that.
Laundry? If it gets done, it's is in piles on the guest bed for weeks.
Projects at work? Yeah, not even started.
Heck, even when I walk along with Wes, I'm always falling behind him. Blame it on the fact that his legs are a good (quite a) few inches longer than mine. Falling.
And then there's this one time...at band camp. Ha! In all seriousness, my sophomore year of high school was my first year as drum major for the marching band. I had been shipped off to band camp (and actually almost got sent home--long story), been through band camp with my band, and was primed and ready for my first game. My first football game. It was a home game. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pee myself. It's a nervous habit of mine. We had a sort of non-traditional halftime show that first game. We were recognizing the graduating class of 1953 (maybe the first graduating class of the school??) and so it was more of a homecoming-type set up (playing some cheesy song softly in the background instead of the whole show). Easy peazy, right? Yeah, not so much. We finished the halftime performance successfully. As the band marched to the sidelines playing the fight song, I heaved a huge sigh of relief as they played the last note. I did it! I made it through the first show! I stepped down off the podium, and all I remember was face-planting. I ate turf. I heard the scratch of my cummerbund as the velcro separated and the entire cummerbund popped off. All I could do was ball up on the 50-yard line's sideline--imagine the position you had to assume for tornado drills in the hallways of elementary school. SHIT! Shit shit shit! was all I could say. I was mortified. My evil ex-boyfriend's dad was video taping. The entire TOWN had seen this happen. To make matters worse, band members were all crowding around me, worried that I had been hurt. Do egos count? That was definitely damaged. Falling from a 4ish foot podium certainly is one of those moments--you know, the ones you write about for that "My Most Embarrassing Moment" assignment. Fortunately, for me, to my knowledge, there is NO video footage--the camera was shut off *right* before I stepped down.
ETA: Speaking of falling...earlier in the year--not quite winter and not yet spring--I wore a skirt. And hose. Nylons. Torture devices, whatever you'd like to call them. And my awesome knee-high boots (that I have identical in brown, too!). I think it was the first time I'd worn hose in at least a year, and this time, it was more cosmetic than for "sucker-innerness." Just like any other morning, I pulled up right out front at Caroline's daycare. I dropped her off without a hitch, and when I walked back outside, somehow...someway, I still haven't figured it out...I missed the curb and was falling, in front of God and everybody. The only thing I could thing about was my $8 brand spanking new Hanes Silk Reflections hose and that I couldn't go through my second pair before 7:30 a.m. I ended up prostrate on the ground. No injuries, but better yet, no runs either! In my acrobatics, I managed to land almost in push up position. A former teacher and another mom both came running up to me. I was perfectly, amazingly, fine. They thought I was crazy when I told them it looked worse than it was because I was trying to avoid a run in my hose. I'm weird like that, I guess.
I love fall. It's my favorite season. It's Georgia football season (GO DAWGS!) for starters. I am giddy with excitement as I watch the first College Game Day of the season. I can watch football--college only--all day. I love the passion of Georgia fans. I love the loyalty of Georgia fans. I love the energy of Georgia fans. I love the excitement of the games. I love the tailgating, the cheering, the crowd. The Redcoat Band. I love the Redcoats.
One late summer morning on my walk to the office, I was overwhelmed with excitement as I realized that I was wearing the perfect Game Day outfit: black, red, and white plaid skirt and a red, sleeveless cowlneck shirt. I couldn't wait to wear it to a game, to watch a game, on game day...to celebrate the glory that is Red and Black. That morning, my perfect Game Day outfit translated not only into the joy I have for football season but also the excitement about fall's approach.
Fall means my birthday is quickly nearing. November is a great time for birthdays (except the 30th, but we're not counting that one this year, right?). Election time excites me *not* because I love politics (because I totally don't) but because I know my birthday is right after elections. It's a whirlwind once November hits: elections, birthday, end of the quarter, Thanksgiving, Caroline's birthday, Christmas, and before you can catch a breath, it's the new year. It's a blur and a frenzied time, but it's fun.
I love the cooler weather fall brings, but more cherished is the smell in the air. I can *smell* fall. You know that smell of the leaves raked in a neat pile, ready to be destroyed by a mischevious soul? That smell warms my soul. Apple pies, pumpkin pies, crisp days, and that smell of leaves--dirt and nature and life and death and childhood and happiness all swept up into that pile. My heart smiles. The emotions are hard to grasp because they are so overwhelming. Memories.
Once again, I am a child, falling into a pile of freshly raked leaves. All my worries disappear and all is right with the world.
Fall has so many associations for me, so I'm really excited about this topic.
Of course, I am always falling behind with things I need to do:
Clean house? Uh, little behind on that.
Laundry? If it gets done, it's is in piles on the guest bed for weeks.
Projects at work? Yeah, not even started.
Heck, even when I walk along with Wes, I'm always falling behind him. Blame it on the fact that his legs are a good (quite a) few inches longer than mine. Falling.
And then there's this one time...at band camp. Ha! In all seriousness, my sophomore year of high school was my first year as drum major for the marching band. I had been shipped off to band camp (and actually almost got sent home--long story), been through band camp with my band, and was primed and ready for my first game. My first football game. It was a home game. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pee myself. It's a nervous habit of mine. We had a sort of non-traditional halftime show that first game. We were recognizing the graduating class of 1953 (maybe the first graduating class of the school??) and so it was more of a homecoming-type set up (playing some cheesy song softly in the background instead of the whole show). Easy peazy, right? Yeah, not so much. We finished the halftime performance successfully. As the band marched to the sidelines playing the fight song, I heaved a huge sigh of relief as they played the last note. I did it! I made it through the first show! I stepped down off the podium, and all I remember was face-planting. I ate turf. I heard the scratch of my cummerbund as the velcro separated and the entire cummerbund popped off. All I could do was ball up on the 50-yard line's sideline--imagine the position you had to assume for tornado drills in the hallways of elementary school. SHIT! Shit shit shit! was all I could say. I was mortified. My evil ex-boyfriend's dad was video taping. The entire TOWN had seen this happen. To make matters worse, band members were all crowding around me, worried that I had been hurt. Do egos count? That was definitely damaged. Falling from a 4ish foot podium certainly is one of those moments--you know, the ones you write about for that "My Most Embarrassing Moment" assignment. Fortunately, for me, to my knowledge, there is NO video footage--the camera was shut off *right* before I stepped down.
ETA: Speaking of falling...earlier in the year--not quite winter and not yet spring--I wore a skirt. And hose. Nylons. Torture devices, whatever you'd like to call them. And my awesome knee-high boots (that I have identical in brown, too!). I think it was the first time I'd worn hose in at least a year, and this time, it was more cosmetic than for "sucker-innerness." Just like any other morning, I pulled up right out front at Caroline's daycare. I dropped her off without a hitch, and when I walked back outside, somehow...someway, I still haven't figured it out...I missed the curb and was falling, in front of God and everybody. The only thing I could thing about was my $8 brand spanking new Hanes Silk Reflections hose and that I couldn't go through my second pair before 7:30 a.m. I ended up prostrate on the ground. No injuries, but better yet, no runs either! In my acrobatics, I managed to land almost in push up position. A former teacher and another mom both came running up to me. I was perfectly, amazingly, fine. They thought I was crazy when I told them it looked worse than it was because I was trying to avoid a run in my hose. I'm weird like that, I guess.
I love fall. It's my favorite season. It's Georgia football season (GO DAWGS!) for starters. I am giddy with excitement as I watch the first College Game Day of the season. I can watch football--college only--all day. I love the passion of Georgia fans. I love the loyalty of Georgia fans. I love the energy of Georgia fans. I love the excitement of the games. I love the tailgating, the cheering, the crowd. The Redcoat Band.
One late summer morning on my walk to the office, I was overwhelmed with excitement as I realized that I was wearing the perfect Game Day outfit: black, red, and white plaid skirt and a red, sleeveless cowlneck shirt. I couldn't wait to wear it to a game, to watch a game, on game day...to celebrate the glory that is Red and Black. That morning, my perfect Game Day outfit translated not only into the joy I have for football season but also the excitement about fall's approach.
Fall means my birthday is quickly nearing. November is a great time for birthdays (except the 30th, but we're not counting that one this year, right?). Election time excites me *not* because I love politics (because I totally don't) but because I know my birthday is right after elections. It's a whirlwind once November hits: elections, birthday, end of the quarter, Thanksgiving, Caroline's birthday, Christmas, and before you can catch a breath, it's the new year. It's a blur and a frenzied time, but it's fun.
I love the cooler weather fall brings, but more cherished is the smell in the air. I can *smell* fall. You know that smell of the leaves raked in a neat pile, ready to be destroyed by a mischevious soul? That smell warms my soul. Apple pies, pumpkin pies, crisp days, and that smell of leaves--dirt and nature and life and death and childhood and happiness all swept up into that pile. My heart smiles. The emotions are hard to grasp because they are so overwhelming. Memories.
Once again, I am a child, falling into a pile of freshly raked leaves. All my worries disappear and all is right with the world.
Labels: childhood, fall, high school, memories, weather