Sad, Angry and Disappointed

I am highly upset right now, I am so verklempt I can barely speak. Today is the first day of fall and the high today was 91 degrees. 91. This is Texas, we don’t get fall, while the rest of the country is luxuriating in the beginning of boot season I’m still in sandals.

I spoke with a man in Michigan today, we need to do some outside work and it needs to get done before their winter sets in. I mention this, he says oh no worries it’s really hot here today. It’s 71 degrees. 71. I said sir that is really inflammatory language, he said where are you Angie. I said Texas.

He apologized profusely, I said it’s fine. Fine. Just great.

Did I mention the humidity? When I came home it did start to rain, now we are talking alpaca territory. My hair, I can’t even discuss it, so while the rest of you are enjoying the changing of the leaves, pumpkins, frost in the mornings, here I sit, with alpaca hair.

I have a closet full of boots, I’m not exaggerating, I have black boots, biker boots, hiking boots, brown boots, little house on the prairie boots, red boots, black suede pirate boots, pink boot, purple boots, so many purple boots and sparkle boots.

All I can do is stare at them and lament the fact that I am destined to live in the wrong state.

When I came back from Montana last year I asked Tess if it would be ok if I moved there.

This is the conversation:

Me: Tess, Gigi is thinking of moving to Montana.

Tess: No

That was it, that was the whole conversation, never to be brought up again.

My perfect retirement plan would be to fall and winter in Montana, come back to Texas for Christmas, New Years and my birthday. Then spring in Florida, who doesn’t love Orlando? I could visit friends and we could visit the mouse, hope for a Loki sighting.

Summer in Texas, there is no getting around that, I spend a week every summer with Tess. I am not giving that up until she decides it is not cool to hang out with Gigi. I am praying that day never comes.

Then back north for beautiful fall colors and real boot season.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my adopted state, I love my home state, I am just never going to live there again. I know this, it is just not for me, I really fell in love with Montana and I have always loved Colorado.

Oh, maybe a motor home, I could just drive all over! However I cannot see wintering in a motor home, at all, I would be a frozen carcass by the end of winter. Fat Catstard wouldn’t like it at all, The Dire Wolf would, but not fatty catty.

Oh well, a girl can dream, of roaring fires, hot chocolate, boots and Dean. I thought I would just slip that in there, lest any of you forget what my real dream is.

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