Thank you, Trader Joe’s
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It’s that time of year again. The time of year when the leaves start to crisp up, the air starts to smell a little more earthy, and the morning hours are cool and delicious.
It’s the time of year when stores are lined with pumpkin everything, and buffalo check print can be purchased in almost any textile you desire.
This is also the time of year, for this girl anyhow, where living in Southern California gets me the most…depressed.
I miss my fall season.
Like the real fall season… not just the time of year that Ross Dress For Less tells me it’s fall with the ridiculous amounts of different pumpkin and hazelnut scented candles, or the white painted ceramic pumpkins.
Fall, the time when it’s supposed to be cooling down and excitement to wear blanket scarves and leather riding boots are deemed appropriate. Fall in southern California means wearing a sweater out your door at 7am, and stripping down to your underwear by midday because it’s nearing the triple digits.
It’s ain’t right, folks. At least not for this girl from New England.
But for some reason, all is right in the world, at least for a moment, when I walk through the doors of Trader Joe’s.
Apparently in my sweet twisted little mind, nothing says fall like food.
Apple butter, pumpkin coffee, figs and pears…
…and apparently also pumpkin pasta and autumn leaves shaped corn chips.
This past Sunday, at least one of the four bags of groceries that I purchased from Trader Joe’s was entirely autumn themed. Yes, I really bought autumn leaves shaped corn tortilla chips…only to be paired with the fall flavored salsa I got to go with them.
What the hell does that mean, I don’t know…delicious? Judge me if you will.
So what that I spent at least $50 in fall themed foods.
So what that my son literally said as I was heading toward the check out line, “mom, you kind of lost your mind on fall stuff…”
…this, from my not even 5 year old son…
So what that I felt the need to guiltily text my husband on the way home to explain my slight over in budget because of “fucking fall”.
All I’m saying is you best be getting out of the way of a New England girl who lives in southern California when fall season hits. Because this may be the only sip of fall I get…and trust me when I say this girl is thirsty.
You have been warned.
much love (and hopefully crisp mornings laced with pots of coffee),
Jen
