So, we're past 'frost on the pumpkins' and moving right on to snow on the apples. I hate it when autumn's splendour goes, though I love (in another overall sense) the passing of the Seasons. But there's something especially sad, poignant about the end of Summer and finally of Fall. I've over-committed usually for the Fall months and am majorly 'out of gas' by November. The leaves go, the days shorten, the grey, cold, blustery wind and rain descend - and it is not yet Christmas !

One Autumn my discomfit was attended by a dose of first-time shingles - apparently from the long-dormant chickenpox-virus of childhood hiding in my backbone, coming out and affecting nerves and skin. Supposedly it's caused by stress or aging, medication or lack of care of schedule and body . . .

I felt like I'd been punched and pumelled, front and back on my left side, and there were attending angry red spots and rashes - kinda like pressing five or ten thumb-tacks randomly into various swatches of skin.

Not at all pleasant; though it did pass, but leaving weakness and some lingering pain (not like the PAIN that was first experienced).

Then came Advent and then Christmas - so hope springs eternal (if I may be permitted to mix Seasons).