It's Pumpkin season. Officially. And by Pumpkin season, I mean that Starbucks has brought back the Pumpkin Spice Latte. Eric surprised me by making a pot of D.D.'s Pumpkin Spice coffee Thursday morning. And as much as I love that, I was really looking forward to going to Book Club on Thursday evening and having myself a nice pumpkin spice latte. Decaf of course, because there's no way I was going to be getting all hyped up at that late hour. How old am I? I sound like my grandparents. Yup. I can't have Starbucks fully leaded after 7 o'clock. What's that sonny?
And I hadn't even finished the book - the Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. We discussed how far we'd gotten. Only one of us actually made it through the whole thing. Superchamp! But the rest of us were struggling. Though even with our struggles, there was still Much to discuss. I think even though I wasn't half done yet, I still had more Deep Thoughts about this book than in a good few months. We just learned we can't get through the classics, not at this time. It's hard for Mothers of Preschoolers to have time or brain power for Deep Thoughts.
Well, as it turned out, we were having a Beautiful evening. It had been hot all day, and was cooling down into the high 70s, but it was not cold enough for a hot beverage. Oh man, no Pumpkin Spice Latte for me. But then someone suggested I should ask about a cold beverage with pumpkin. The barista recommended the Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino. Um, Yes Please!
I was trying to get a picture of my lovely frappuccino in good light, and snap pics of the gals too. But my arms weren't quite long enough. Still, Amy waved, she can be really silly, and it's wonderfully refreshing. A couple months ago, we were all sitting around (not discussing the book) and we realized one of our group had never gone to Foot Euphoria, and she called them on the spot and got us all in right away (because they love her too) so we drove down for massages. Now that's my kind of Book Club. Although with regard to that (and so Eric doesn't think I'm bonkers) we were discussing Sylvia Plath, and how she lost it. But we felt that if she took some time for herself, like for a massage or a pedicure or something, she may not have taken the steps she did. Crazy is as Crazy does. Well, this kind of crazy goes for spontaneous massages during Book Club. And I'm not going to end up with a best selling bad book because of my crazy.
But yes, it really was that good. I can almost hear the angels singing. It looks like it was that good, because it was that good. I'm hoping for a few more Indian Summer type days where the sky is beautiful and the pumpkin spice lattes are like ice cream.
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