I am a little tired of people that move down here (Dallas) from other parts of the country and then whine because they miss the seasons.
Firstly, when you go places, it’s not supposed to be the same as the place you left. When you move or travel, you find new things, unique to that part of the world, to enjoy. I’ve lived in the northeast, and enjoy a glorious golden autumn as much as anyone. But we don’t have that here. Fall in this part of the country is not characterized by reds and oranges. Fall here takes its color from the other end of the spectrum. It’s when violet clouds of asters bloom, at least in older neighborhoods full of the plants that everyone’s grandmama grew. Fall is when the blue-violet morning glories finally explode in profusion. It’s the season of the brightest, most intense blue sky. If you can’t appreciate those things, then yankee, go home.
–end of rant, back to sewing–