A different kind of autumn
Crazy blogging break, I know. There really is no rhyme or reason as to what’s going on these days but with the rain pitter-pattering on my skylights and a cup of chai keeping me company, I thought I’d open up my computer and write.
Without a doubt, autumn is my most favourite-favourite time of year. The fiery colours, the slight chill calling for that cozy scarf, the promise of special holidays – and of course, the start of school. Nothing quite compares to fresh notebooks and sharp pencils; crisp outfits and new classes marking new beginnings. My love for this onset of autumn has been no different than years past; at the same time, it has been unlike any other.
For the first time since I was five years old, I missed the start of school this year. Being quite far along in my pregnancy I was unable to partake in the hustle and bustle of the post-labour day fête, and nor have I been reacquainted with routine – that familiar friend – since then. And it felt weird, I tell you. REALLY weird. My long, hot, stuffy, swollen, sloth-like summer has stretched right into a comparatively thumb-twiddling start to fall. For all the right reasons, though; we are waiting with much anticipation our first baby. Annnnnny day now.
Despite the joy in putting up mobiles and assembling baby furniture (none of which I did myself – thanks, Brent), not going back to work has made me look fondly at school and I feel proud of the role I play in it. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you could say. I perk up at any conversation about reading, I relish the stories of friends and families about all the new learning, and being somewhat on the outside looking in, I’m realizing that in one way, shape or form, the gift of education truly effects us all.
So as we wait for our very own special gift to arrive (really, any day now would be great), I hope I’m not too late in saying, happy back to school, everyone. We really are, so very lucky.