And that statement was "Peace out summer; helloooooooooo fall!"
When I stepped off the plane from New York the evening of Labor Day, I knew Atlanta was not the city I left it to be. Over the course of three days which included entirely too much food and just enough family time, the temperature of my beloved southern city had dropped about 30 degrees. Fahrenheit. At least it wasn't Celsius... that would've been even more extreme. Nix the nerd jokes, btw.
With the cool breeze and smell in the air of leaves considering changing, I began to crave for all things fall from jewel tones to crock pot meals. The cold front brought rain and cool weather, and of course, pumpkin spice lattes. So exciting. Usually I'm a total Starbucks hater and prefer (both my tastebuds and my wallet agree) the regular 'ol java from my Mr. Coffee, or even better, the giant urn I find in the cafe at school each morning. I'm a total seasonal coffee junkie, though, and I am pretty pumped about pulling out my cashmere sweaters, sitting by a fire (hey, does anyone have a fireplace? My loft doesn't have one...), and sipping on some delicious coffee confectionary treat, like a peppermint mocha. I'm getting ahead of myself though, because I seriously considered going to the pool yesterday before I realized I was sunburned after sitting outside for brunch.
With the fall comes lots of wonderful things, and some not so wonderful as well. Fall means football season - WDE - and earth tones and boots and jeans and BIRTHDAY and delicious food scented candles, but it also brings about the anniversary of the event that changed the lives of every American, and possibly the lives of the majority of the world.
I don't want to be that chick that blogs about 9/11, but this year I can't help it. I've always run from the memories of watching the towers be hit, burn, and fall. I've closed my eyes and tried not to imagine how bad it was to actually be there, to endure the terror. I changed my mind and my attitude this year, though. I wasn't directly affected, but I once had a friend that was. I met a girl at ballet camp in summer 2001, and she and I were determined to set up my sister with her brother - both lived in Manhattan. Christie and Welles met and became friends quickly, but there was no romantic spark. All of this doesn't matter, but what does is that Welles gave his life that day. As someone that worked in the towers and had the option to escape, he stayed behind and helped others.
In sharing the events of 9/11 with my current students - who are too young to remember the impact of the attacks - I've become very emotional. I don't know why I get choked up every time I think about that Tuesday morning. I wonder if the hype of the ten year reunion is getting me... who knows. I shared the story of Welles and his red bandana, and my students seemed to be moved as well. We decided to write letters to servicemen that have been injured in combat since, but I just found out today that the post office will no longer deliver letters "to a recovering American soldier." I looking for alternate ways to write to troops.
This morning, I dedicated my morning/afternoon/entire day to watching specials I previously selected to record about the anniversary of September 11th. For the first time, I saw bone-chilling footage. Nothing quite shook me like hearing a woman scream as she witnessed the second plane hit - realizing that this was no accident. I watched, cried, prayed, and watched and cried some more. Finally, I had seen enough. I was emotionally exhausted. I had to move my thoughts from what I dread about fall to what I love about fall. I took a poke through the freezer and found just what I needed: a roast I prepared last... winter? I really should've taken a picture. Talk about freezer burn.
As I thawed the questionable roast, I lit a pumpkin spice candle and opened the door to my porch, with nothing between Atlanta and myself but a small piece of screen to filter out those stubborn mosquitos. I suppose they'll hang around until at least the first frost. Come on, first frost! The fall has inspired me to cook and craft, so hopefully I'll be starting up some new projects soon. For now, I managed to organize my gladware. It's such a lovely feeling :)
With birthday and restaurant week literally around the corner, I should hopefully be sharing more soon!
When I stepped off the plane from New York the evening of Labor Day, I knew Atlanta was not the city I left it to be. Over the course of three days which included entirely too much food and just enough family time, the temperature of my beloved southern city had dropped about 30 degrees. Fahrenheit. At least it wasn't Celsius... that would've been even more extreme. Nix the nerd jokes, btw.
 |
| Family time = hungry Havanese pups begging for my apple |
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| Black Cow (Rootbeer Float) @ Starrdust Diner, NY |
With the cool breeze and smell in the air of leaves considering changing, I began to crave for all things fall from jewel tones to crock pot meals. The cold front brought rain and cool weather, and of course, pumpkin spice lattes. So exciting. Usually I'm a total Starbucks hater and prefer (both my tastebuds and my wallet agree) the regular 'ol java from my Mr. Coffee, or even better, the giant urn I find in the cafe at school each morning. I'm a total seasonal coffee junkie, though, and I am pretty pumped about pulling out my cashmere sweaters, sitting by a fire (hey, does anyone have a fireplace? My loft doesn't have one...), and sipping on some delicious coffee confectionary treat, like a peppermint mocha. I'm getting ahead of myself though, because I seriously considered going to the pool yesterday before I realized I was sunburned after sitting outside for brunch.
 |
| The end of summer means a flight from The Wrecking Bar |
With the fall comes lots of wonderful things, and some not so wonderful as well. Fall means football season - WDE - and earth tones and boots and jeans and BIRTHDAY and delicious food scented candles, but it also brings about the anniversary of the event that changed the lives of every American, and possibly the lives of the majority of the world.
I don't want to be that chick that blogs about 9/11, but this year I can't help it. I've always run from the memories of watching the towers be hit, burn, and fall. I've closed my eyes and tried not to imagine how bad it was to actually be there, to endure the terror. I changed my mind and my attitude this year, though. I wasn't directly affected, but I once had a friend that was. I met a girl at ballet camp in summer 2001, and she and I were determined to set up my sister with her brother - both lived in Manhattan. Christie and Welles met and became friends quickly, but there was no romantic spark. All of this doesn't matter, but what does is that Welles gave his life that day. As someone that worked in the towers and had the option to escape, he stayed behind and helped others.
In sharing the events of 9/11 with my current students - who are too young to remember the impact of the attacks - I've become very emotional. I don't know why I get choked up every time I think about that Tuesday morning. I wonder if the hype of the ten year reunion is getting me... who knows. I shared the story of Welles and his red bandana, and my students seemed to be moved as well. We decided to write letters to servicemen that have been injured in combat since, but I just found out today that the post office will no longer deliver letters "to a recovering American soldier." I looking for alternate ways to write to troops.
This morning, I dedicated my morning/afternoon/entire day to watching specials I previously selected to record about the anniversary of September 11th. For the first time, I saw bone-chilling footage. Nothing quite shook me like hearing a woman scream as she witnessed the second plane hit - realizing that this was no accident. I watched, cried, prayed, and watched and cried some more. Finally, I had seen enough. I was emotionally exhausted. I had to move my thoughts from what I dread about fall to what I love about fall. I took a poke through the freezer and found just what I needed: a roast I prepared last... winter? I really should've taken a picture. Talk about freezer burn.
As I thawed the questionable roast, I lit a pumpkin spice candle and opened the door to my porch, with nothing between Atlanta and myself but a small piece of screen to filter out those stubborn mosquitos. I suppose they'll hang around until at least the first frost. Come on, first frost! The fall has inspired me to cook and craft, so hopefully I'll be starting up some new projects soon. For now, I managed to organize my gladware. It's such a lovely feeling :)
 |
With birthday and restaurant week literally around the corner, I should hopefully be sharing more soon!
