Have I ever mentioned that I am Miss October?
Not in a scantily-clad, calendar page, sitting cross-legged and sly-smiled on top of a massive pumpkin sort of way. Nope. Nope. Nope. Not even close. In a cardigan wearing, seasonal latte drinking, pumpkin patch visiting, costume hunting, grilled cheese and tomato soup way.
So, no I have never perched atop a planetary gourd in orange stockings and red lipstick. Primarily because I have trouble getting to any high place, anywhere. Climbing anything is never a seamless or elegant transition for me, and always fraught with anxiety. I do not fear high places. I fear falling from them.
And secondarily, because they do not serve caramel apples way up there. And in October, I do not go where caramel apples are not.
