Let me start with two quick notes. 1. I didn’t mean to go so
long without updating. I just got lazy, which really isn’t much of an excuse.
But blogging regularly does take some discipline, which I haven’t seemed to
acquire just yet. I’m working on it. I will do my darndest to update with much
more frequency.
2. I started this post about a month and a half ago, and
it’s all about fall. Since we are now in the Christmas season (yay!), I
realized that this post will start to sound really out of place (if it doesn’t
already) if I hold off any longer. So here you are!
Now, onto the writin’ stuffs.
If you don’t already know, I want you to be aware that I’m a
sucker for fall. It is hands-down my favorite season. When I was a kid, winter
was my favorite, because, well, winter is perfect for kids—snow days, drinking
hot cocoa by the gallon, sledding, Christmas—it really didn’t get better than
that. Until I became an adult (which I still dispute), and discovered that
winter isn’t all that kind to adults. There aren’t snow days, driving in the
snow is almost as terrifying as driving in L.A. traffic, and it’s cold (which apparently didn’t bother me
as a kid). I mean, winter is still beautiful and Christmas is pretty much the
best time of the year, but I’m now a believer that winter can come on December
1 and leave on, oh, January 12.
But fall… fall is the best.
I’m a hopeless romantic when it comes to fall. I adore each and every fall
cliché—the crisp air, dreary skies, the earthy smell of crunchy leaves and
apples and grass, bonfires, hayrides, the colors (my goodness, the colors!), driving down a road lined with
maples and oaks in beautiful hues of red and orange and yellow, long-sleeved
shirts and puffy vests and jeans, rosy cheeks, hot cups of tea and coffee, warm
apple cider, days spent baking pies, candles burning in the house, cooking warm
things like soup and chili and grilled cheese, apple picking, spending lazy
days watching movies and listening to the wind howl whilst wearing sweats and
slippers, wearing a scarf and gloves but no coat yet, football, weenie roasts,
that cool rain that signals that it will soon turn to snow, coming inside from
the outdoors with windswept hair, snuggling up under a blanket and reading,
Halloween, how it gets dark early and so staying in for the evening is
completely warranted… yeah, there are a lot
of clichés, but I love ’em all.
But what I just described to you is a northern fall, a
Midwestern fall, an anywhere-but-SoCal-fall. I just spent my first full
fall in SoCal, and I’ve gotta say, it kind of sucks. From September right on up
until about 2 weeks ago, it’s been hot and dry and not a whole lot different
from summer. And SoCal fall has made me unbelievably homesick (part of the
reason I fell off the blogging wagon). It’s also made me weirdly angry at
things toward which I probably shouldn’t be hostile: desert plants, the
weather, people in t-shirts and shorts, meteorologists who claim that 80
degrees constitutes “nice fall temperatures.”
I’ll be driving along, having a good day, and suddenly look
up at a palm tree and go from happy to homesick in about .02 seconds. And then
I get mad at that stupid palm tree and its stupid non-color changing leaves,
and it just spirals downhill from there. I don’t think I was terribly pleasant
to be around for most of September and October with all my SoCal hate and
homesick meltdowns. So send some sympathy toward Rich… the man could use it!
Anyway, I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when I
discovered that there are actually towns within an hour’s drive where true fall
exists! Not this going-to-the-beach mumbo jumbo that they consider fall round
these parts. I’ve even been to one of them, and it’s a magical place that
momentarily cured me of my homesickness for a few days!
I made my first solo trip to the little mountain village of
Oak Glen back in October, and I went back two weeks ago and took Rich along
with me. It is glorious. And it
fulfills almost every fall cliché that I so dearly missed. Apple picking, cider
drinking, fresh donut eating, mountain hiking, leaves changing, air crisping
(?), pie devouring, piglet racing (yup, you read that right)… you can do it all
in Oak Glen. It’s probably one of my top five favorite places in California. I
just love that I have a place that feels
like home just an hour away… how awesome is that?!
Hilariously, Oak Glen is an absolute tourist trap. By noon,
every parking lot is packed with cars and every street and shop is jammed with
Californians, all seeking a bit of decidedly un-Californian fall.
Check it out in picture form:
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| Red barns! Cider! So much fall! |
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| This guy behind me was scoffing at everyone taking pictures of donuts. So I took more. Donuts deserve pictures, buddy. Don't make me feel bad about it. |
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| Breakfast. |
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| This is from trip 1... the leaves were only starting to change. |
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| A miniature horse. I got to pet it. I named him Li'l Sebastian. |
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| Apple picking! |
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| On a 2-mile hike. Halfway through, I thought, "Huh, there could be bears on this trail." And then I jumped every time a leaf rustled. For the next mile. |
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| Tourists love fall! |
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| Piglet races. Highlight of the day. |
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| Mile high apple pie! After cupcakes and chocolate, apple pie is the key to my heart. |
So anyway, I know that fall is technically a period of time
and not a specific weather pattern and I know that homesickness makes one
remember the highlight real rather than the actual details, but when I’m at my
homesickest (that’s a word now. I decreed it so), and therefore whiniest, it
pretty much hurts my soul to not get
to experience the fall I so love and adore. So discovering little Oak Glen and
having a few other towns like it on my “must-visit” list is a blessing for this
Midwesterner in an un-Midwestern place. Cheeseball as that is.
Anyway, back down here in the regular SoCal land, leaves are
finally changing… just in time for Christmas music, naturally. And as you can
imagine, now I’m cursing the stupid trees for not being pine trees and not
being covered in snow. But guess what.
It snows in Oak Glen!
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