Finally, some seasonally appropriate weather. Granted, San Francisco is often brisk and cloudy, but today it feels all right and September-y, and I'm feeling the urge to make curried lentil and cabbage soup (they were eating it in this novel I've been reading, and I've been craving it ever since).
The brisk air is good for the roaming sense of guilt I've been feeling. Good in the way that it's making it go away for a while.
For some reason, fall is the most strongly nostalgic season for me (the smells maybe?). The new apartment is right in the middle of what seems to be the elementary school nexus of the universe, too. We've got a Catholic School, a Friend's School, and the Harvey Milk Civil Rights Academy, all within one block of us. It takes a girl back it does, seeing all these tots and hearing their dulcet screams at recess. The other day I was walking past the Quaker school's field during what looked like a PE class. There was this one girl with long wavy blondish hair who was tagging along at the end of the lap-runners, sort of half jogging half walking, stopping intermittently to examine random clumps of dirt and grass. I got all ruminative about how that was totally me, and now here I am all growed up and moderately a jogging type, and wow how I've grown. And then I totally tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.