Lay a little autumn on me.

Nothing but rain for miles and hours.

Hurricane leftovers. It’s what’s on the climatic menu today.

Thank you, Mama Weather.

Lay a little autumn on me.

Right now, I’m listening to The Paris Swing Box (Parov Stelar) on Rdio.

Here’s the thing.

Every waking moment that I can be outdoors experiencing the hot sauce that is autumn, I will be.

This might be where Pigmunk lives. Communal chipmunk living.

Monday, I was elbow-deep in bread dough and homemade soup. People around me have been dropping like flies from what I can only believe is autumn grunge. Sneaky autumn. She Who Can Cook to the rescue!

More. More. More!

I might’ve been the carrier. My definition of a carrier is that person who — you know — feels a little off. Has a little squishy stomach. Nothing that prevents her them from going about her their day, gettin’ her their stuff done. But everyone they come in contact with gets a raging fever, blown ears, and can’t keep anything in their bodies north or south of the stomach equator. I feel a little woozy.

Know any of those carrier people?

If you’re friend or fam, it wasn’t me. I swears!

Here. Have some soup.

Yeah. Just lay a little autumn on me.

Tuesday was a perfect 55-Fahren, sunny, autumn day so we made tracks into the big TO to Edwards Gardens to get our woodsy fix. I know. It seems counterintuitive to hie into the city for an outdoor experience, but there you have it.

It’s what we did, and it did not disappoint.

Like sublime doesn’t disappoint.

I clicked the bridge before autumn here.

Here be Hump Day.

Let’s just live in denial and move on.

Elen