The Frost is on the Pumpkin

There was a poem we had to read every year in elementary school (or it felt like it was every year, maybe it was only one or two years) that began "The frost is on the pumpkin..." and it went on to talk about fall's glory. I remember liking the poem. But I don't remember more than the first line. I could google it, I suppose, but I find I don't care that much.

Regardless, I always find myself thinking it when fall starts to make itself known more clearly.

Today (most of this week, in fact) was one of those "fall is here!" days.

I spent my morning swapping out shorts and short sleeves for long. Eldest, of course, will probably need a trip to...somewhere. WalMart maybe? To find some pants that fit his ever lengthening legs. (The boy has 4 inches to go and he will be my height. He is an even 5 feet tall at this red hot second. And wearing size 10.5 men's in shoes. So yeah, he'll be growing into those feet.) Youngest will be doing well enough with hand me downs, I think, at least for a while.

What amuses me is that youngest can wear 10s (they're big, but not so big that they look like clown clothes) and eldest fits perfectly in 14s (at least until his next growth spurt - there's no room for him to grow in them.) But still, 4 years apart, but only 2 sizes. Youngest is set to be bigger than eldest, I think.

Of course, mom always said this about me. I'm 2.5 years behind my sister and until 5th grade, she'd outgrow something and I could go right into it. Then I quit growing. (I still feel robbed, by the by, from all the childhood projections that I was going to be 5'10". Somewhere there are 6 inches that belong to me. I would like them back please.)

Anyway, once the clothes were swapped and a new bag filled with things that are too small to make it through another season, we piled in the van and headed to the pumpkin patch.

I was not really up for it, but eldest has been desperate to go. And it is a tradition. But in retrospect, I did entirely too much walking for being 2 weeks out from surgery. And I am tired.

Still, we have pumpkins. And apple cider. And apple cider donuts for breakfast in the a.m.

And pictures of the kiddos in the corn maze.

The frost is on the pumpkin. And all's right with the world.