Another thing that usually inspires me is that I have these great leaf plates from Pottery Barn. But I only have four of everything so I am always looking for more. This year I found six place settings on ebay! I was so excited. I was beyond excited. I prayed over those dishes! And I was winning the auction for five days. I put my teency little bid down and was winning by a big margin. I checked the auction an hour before it was finished. I was still winning by the same margin. I went to bed. The next day I checked, and I had lost the auction! I couldn't believe it. I went back and looked and realized (and this is why I hate ebay) the winning bidder had bid with less than one minute left in the auction. I mean, really? Why do ebay auctions always come down literally to the last minute? What is even the point of the 10,079 minutes before?! I will admit that it is an excellent strategy, but I also have to say, it is really annoying. I would have gladly paid much more than the winning bid on the auction. I just had no idea that anyone else was interested and that my first bid wasn't high enough. George says I should have just put a high bid in to begin with. I always bid low at first because I don't want to bid too much without asking him. But yes, I should have upped my bid for insurance, but I just didn't even consider that I could lose. It was so so disappointing. And I haven't gotten my fall dishes out because of it. Because four is not much use to me anyway with a family of five, and I just can't handle the reminder that I lost out on six plate settings by about forty cents. I have even contemplated selling the four I have. That is in no way logical, I know.
Okay, so this took a tragic turn somewhere after apple picking... Sorry about that. The point of this whole thing has nothing to do with dishes, which really shouldn't surprise you since I rarely get to the point in less than five paragraphs. The point is that I have been checking out some fall videos for the kids from the library. And actually, I have decided to save that discussion anyway, because as I have looked out the window while writing (and while someone called and I was tied up on the phone and while I drove to pick up carpool and back home again all since I started) this post, I have noticed something absolutely lovely taking place in my yard. It doesn't appear to be taking place anywhere else in St. Louis that I can tell. But in my yard, in my woods, rather, where I am tucked in under a covering of yellow atop this lonely hill, it is snowing- not the frozen white flakes that will surely come in the next month or so, but the leaves. The leaves are fluttering down steadily and gracefully in the breeze, and it just looks like something from a storybook. It is one of those things you're sure that you knew did at times happen, but you cannot recall having seen it before- or if you have, surely it was not so splendid as this time. And it really isn't like a storybook because as storybook is still, as a picture would be. I actually tried to take a picture and it did not do the event justice. And this post does not do it justice. I really don't like writing about nature because everything has been said before- so much so, that any sort of description sounds trite and lame. On the other hand, any type of new wording, any search for the perfect word, ends in the verbal equivalent of a Thomas Kinkade painting. I am sorry to say so, but this is actually the evidence of such.
Well, just imagine it. At this rate, I think my canopy of leaves will have completely fallen in the next day or so or I'd invite everyone to come out and see it. But you know, if you're in the neighborhood, come see the show. I think I'm feelin' fall a little more now- wonder if I can convince George to light a fire when he gets home from work!