T.S. Eliot said April is the cruelest month, but he’s wrong. January has that distinction. Let’s not think about that right now though. It’s reasonable to practice winter avoidance behaviors.
November is cool because it’s all tweedy browns and yellows with bare branches and 1970’s harvest gold leaf carpets on the lawns and sidewalks.
The Halloween frenzy is done. All moms everywhere have quietly rejoiced. *Yay*
The gluttony of December isn’t yet here. It’s a space between. Simple. Good.
Two of my children were born in November, along with two of my sisters, a nephew, my father-in-law, and my dad so it’s kind of a charmed month for me. Good things happen in a month like this.
Things like Honey Crisp apples. And the start of the holiday movie season. Pumpkin pie with whipped cream, too, and practicing Christmas songs on the piano.
Putting the children to bed a little earlier because it’s a lot darker makes November nice.
Where October is showy and spectacular, and December is heavily crusted with expectations, November is just here: brown, yellow, cool, overcast, and really okay with being sandwiched between a couple of demanding months.
We get along fine.