Friday was a bright, sunny and (dare I say it) hot day. After my morning shift at the office, and before my afternoon shift from home, our little family unit met at Miller Park for the UT Vols pep rally. Fuller clapped along with the fans, we shouted V! O! L! S! because anyone who wants to play (and beat) Alabama is fine with us. I sweated as I walked from one end of downtown to the other.

(Don’t tell me that Alabama beat UT. We know that. It is in the past, get over it.)

And then on Saturday we woke up to a fall chill, with breezes and falling leaves. We found our jackets, jeans, and socks (must have socks!) to make our way to the fall festival that afternoon. Fuller wore his hat, I thanked every one who told me it was so cute.

That night when it was time to slumber, we dressed in the long PJ pants and bundled up under the covers. But the chilliness kept waking us up.

This change in the weather, this downward spiral from warm and pleasant to cold and dreary, it isn’t very pleasant this year. Usually there is the dance of the thermometer, where the mercury rises and falls to a beat of its own choosing. The dance is like a square dance with a caller who has no rhythm or rhyme, where one day you have on a turtleneck and the next you are searching for your chacos.

This year, the sqaure dance is missing and suddenly we are plunged from a day at the beach and we are searching for kindling to make a fire to keep warm.

I don’t like it. And this surprises me. Usually the square dance frustrates me, making it difficult to get dressed in the morning. I would think that I would be happy that the five day forecast calls for highs in the low 60s, meaning limited choices in the wardrobe department.

But I am somehow not thrilled by this change. Fall is beautiful, the air is crisp, but I am still missing something.

Maybe it is the sun.

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