Grits and Purls

Spinning yarns about the grit of life


Golden rod and asters are the flowers remaining on the prairie

Golden rod and asters are the flowers remaining on the prairie

Fall is in the air. Darkness greets me when the alarm goes off in the mornings now, and the desire to snuggle in a warm blanket, sip on an aromatic cup of coffee and watch the sunrise in quiet comfort is almost irresistible.

The landscape is decorated with gold and crimson—soybeans turning golden brown, golden rod in full bloom, sumac plants with their crimson leaves, and red and orange rose hips and hawthorn berries color my days.

Migrating geese and cranes and cackling turkeys provide the sound track for the day. Crickets and cicadas perform a twilight symphony each evening to bring summer to a close. Stars sparkle in the clear night sky, and Orion becomes prominent in the sky—the hunter returning as autumn approaches.

I love this time of year. There are apple orchards to visit, hikes to take, fall color change to anticipate and watch. The days are clear and crisp. The air is clean and fresh. I can inhale deeply, sigh and be at peace with the changing world around me.

And, there’s one more important thing about this time of year.

It’s time for me to indulge in my guiltiest of pleasures—watching  the boys of the gridiron go at it.

I grew up watching football with my dad. In our house it was mostly college football, and I remember attending Georgia Tech Yellow Jacket football games at Grant Field in Atlanta with my family. At age six, I knew the words to the Ramblin’ Wreck fight song, even if I didn’t understand them.

However, since moving to Wisconsin, my blood has acquired a bit of a green and gold hue.

In 2001, when my husband and I were still dating, he was traveling abroad quite a lot for work. That fall he was in Greece and unable to follow the progress of the Green Bay Packers, so on Sundays at game time, he would call me, and I would spend a significant part of our phone call giving him the Packers’ play-by-play action. (There’s more than one way into a man’s heart.)

We have watched the heart-attack Pack many, many times; we have been to Lambeau; we even “own” part of the team. Our daughter is being raised Packer. Even the dog dons Packer gear.

So, when the 2015 Packers season opened, we were ready. On a glorious, sunshine-spackled fall day, the Packers beat the Bears in the season opener at Soldier Field. As, I walked the dog in the waning light that evening, I inhaled deeply, sighed, and felt at peace with the amazing world around me, and immediately started thinking about next week’s game.

Go Pack!

© 2015 Michele Arduengo. All rights reserved.



One thought on “Guilty Pleasures

  1. This post makes me realize how much I love nature, and being in the great outdoors at this time of year. Stop by

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