October Schmoctober

Oh, October is here.  I love October.  And yet, it makes me a little squeamish.

Squeamish because I love the brisk sunshiney days where we can wear jeans and sweaters and boots….but because I know their days are numbered.  That soon enough we will be wearing boots and parkas and hats and mittens and scarves and will have to get up 30 minutes earlier to get all dressed and get the car warm and it won’t even be light out until you get inside your job.  And then when you leave, it’s dark again.

October.  Dang, I just love it!  I don’t want it to be here because then it will be gone!

October….isn’t the prefix Octo- kind of meant to mean the number 8?  Like Octogon, Octopus, and Octo-mom??  But October is the 10th month.  That doesn’t make any sense.  August should actually be October then.  Maybe there were some months added in by some schlep

Jeez, I almost just flipped my chair over backwards at realizing this!  That could’ve been a really funny incident that no one would’ve seen….but that I would have to describe to my blog.

What would make it funnier, would be if I had a piece of pumpkin pie in my hand to celebrate October being here, and with my falling backwards the pie fell right on my face.  Tons on whipped cream on top, of course.  Right on my face.  Would’ve been pretty darn funny.


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