My ancestors are rolling over in their graves. I spent $40 on cornstalks. My desire to transform my yard from the pinks and purples of summer to autumn鈥檚 hues of oranges and reds had me buying mums, gourds and, yes, corn stalks.
I was raised in a large family of farmers. While growing up, I was assured of fall鈥檚 arrival when half the boys in my class would miss school on the first day of hunting season.
I never wanted a camouflage jacket and trusty rifle so badly. We weren鈥檛 hunters, but I would have done anything to get out of school for a day, even don camouflage overalls and the brightest orange hat ever made.
Other than pumpkin carving, I don鈥檛 remember decorating for fall as a kid. If we did, we would have walked to the nearest corn field and cut a few stalks ourselves. And the pumpkins we picked fresh from the field.
Fast forward to today. I don't live on a farm. Over the weekend, I bought five bundles of corn stalks for $8 each. (Yep. That sound you hear is definitely my ancestors spinning down there.) I then Edward Scissor-handed my way around the stalks, turning them into rustic arrangements I hoped Martha Stewart would be proud of. That's something those beginner hunters who ditched school could never do.
It's fascinating how society follows the economic nudges given to us. This year, I started dreaming about pumpkin spice lattes while slapping another burger onto the grill.
Marketing on social media worked. I鈥檓 already considering taking the boxes of Christmas decorations out of storage soon. That鈥檚 because last week, while shopping, just beyond the Halloween candy, I saw Christmas lights set-up next to chocolate Santas and flimsy stockings.
It usually follows the Fourth of July, when I start to speak of my eagerness for the fall transition.
鈥淔all is my favorite season."
"I can鈥檛 wait to see the leaves change.鈥
"The crisp air is such good sleeping weather.鈥
Those all are all variations of my pining for something different. The subtle Bath and Body candle scent changes from Summer Boardwalk to Pumpkin Bonfire snuck into my psyche. And the retailers know we're always looking for what's next.
Particularly in Ohio, it seems we鈥檙e never happy. More sun, but not too hot. An early fall, but the leaves need to stay on trees longer and snow can come only for visual effect during the holidays. The spring bulbs should bloom soon after.
The older I get the more patient I become. Patience is a virtue that took a long time for me to master. Journalism taught me the hard way. You cannot force someone to call you back for a story. You can鈥檛 rush an investigation when more documents are crucial. For years I would repeat to myself, 鈥淏reathe鈥.
On Sunday, as I positioned my cornstalks in their designated urns, leaves from the tree above fell on cue. It was the perfect arrival of autumn, though I couldn鈥檛 resist thinking about how beautiful the branches would look once they're covered in snow.
See, fall isn't even here yet and I'm longing for what's next.
I鈥檓 going to walk over to the coffee shop now for a pumpkin spice latte. I need something to keep me going while I edit a story on the first day of hunting season. If I hadn't blown so much money on cornstalks, perhaps I could have bought a camouflage vest and taken the day off.
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