Fall is here. The still air has that crisp snappiness to it that makes it feel blustery outside when not a blade of grass is stirring. Soon the sound of crunching leaves will articulate every footfall. Before long, the morning chill will necessitate that the oil furnace be cranked up and we will be able to feel our hard earned dollars escaping from the floor vents to wrap us in a thin layer of warmth.
Already I have had to resist the urge to listen to Christmas music. Mind you, I haven’t been able to resist it every time. There’s just something so comforting about listening to Bing and Dean croon. I can’t give in to regular listening for at least another month though. If I start listening to “Marshmallow World” and “Silent Night” now I’ll be sick to death of them by Christmas.
Not only that, but when I hear the strains of “Santa Baby” it makes me want to bake cookies. Lots of cookies. And then I forsake all other food groups and just eat cookies, and eat them and eat them. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around I won’t even be able to eat a roll. It’s a vicious cycle.
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