Dog Days Are Over

I am not really sure where that phrase came from. Do the dogs enjoy summertime more than humans? Do they mean a dogs life is shorter than ours so the best part goes faster? I don't have a clue. I am sure the meaning is rooted in some classical literature or some old film. But either way, the dog days are, in fact, over.

The warm summer days spent in shorts sipping on lemonade have been replaced by long-sleeves and hot cocoa. Normally, the fall is my favorite time of year. I love the colors of fall! The fashion turns to more browns and oranges and burnt reds, just as the leaves do. And I love the sound of crunching leaves under my feet!

This year is no different than any other. Except that it is completely different. Or, at least it will be very soon. As most of you know, we are moving to the coast at the end of this month. And, while getting out of this stinky valley is something I have made my life's ambition for the past five years, now that it is actually happening, it is sort of bittersweet.

.

You see, this future Stanford athlete was born here in Visalia. We brought him home, to *this* home, from the hospital. Eric and I became tied to one another in a very real way when we bought *this* house. We came home from Yosemite, after getting married, to *this* house. We painted each room and decorated it just so. And now, the dog days of this house are over. The dog days of Visalia living are over. I made some GREAT friends while I lived here, re-connected with some old friends while we lived here, had some horrible tough times while we lived here, and overcame some difficulties while we lived here. But man, did we LIVE while we were here. For better or worse, we are on to new and exciting memories for this little Sheller family.

But as I look around my silent house while Noah is sleeping, and see blank walls and mountains of boxes, I think Visalia deserves just a little tear from me. An ode to a formidable foe. Good bye, until we meet again.