I opened the hall closet door yesterday, dog bowl in hand, to scoop Izzie's dinner out of the big bag we keep in there. Usually I'm assaulted by the overwhelming scent of Purina One, but yesterday hints of apple and spice and cinnamon danced with the smell of kibble.
After a bit of digging through what's become the catch-all space, I found this hiding high up on the top shelf.
A mulled cider candle from Wal-Mart. It's no Harvest candle (which I can sniff out anywhere), but I'm surprised I hadn't noticed it in there before.
I suppose it means I'm craving September more and more these days, which is pretty true. For as much as she snuck up on me last year, I'm eagerly waiting to receive her with open hands this time around.
Sweaters and jeans and cooler weather and football and the warmth of a pot pie on the dinner plate. Mmmmm. I'm certainly looking forward to those things.
Soon, friends. They are coming very soon.