Because Monday is better with claymation

Upon leaving the house to meet the noon-hour school bus, I met with a pleasant surprise: for the first time in weeks, there was no need for jackets. My son and I spent the minutes we would have squandered in bundling strolling up and down the sidewalk, searching for crunchable leaves.

While waiting for kindergarten drop-off, I toyed with the idea of an afternoon walk, but my kitchen told another story. A pile of dirty dishes and a pack of thawing stew meat were evidence enough of a prior engagement. I settled for sending the kids out to play, opening the windows, and blaring Fleet Foxes while I worked. There's something about their self-titled album that says "autumn" to me.  It's an eccentric and folksy record, and fall's jumbled array of colour speaks to me in similar terms. I find this especially true of "White Winter Hymnal", despite its title. The song has me wanting to jive into a hair-swinging dance, like the nameless twins in A Charlie Brown Christmas. The lyrics make for a rather disturbing juxtaposition, since I'm pretty sure they're about decapitated birds, but the video is so charming it's still worth a share.

Hope the weather where-ever you are gives a similar treat.


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