What Fall Actually Looks Like at My House

Every year about the middle of September, the internet starts trying to convince me that fall has arrived. There are sweaters. There are steaming cups of coffee held with both hands. There are blankets draped over chairs beside roaring fires. Somebody is walking through orange leaves wearing boots and a scarf, and I can’t help wondering where she lives because it certainly isn’t Georgia. At my house, fall doesn’t arrive looking quite like that. Fall might begin with a pumpkin sitting on the porch while the air conditioner is still running. I may put out an autumn candle and then turn on the ceiling fan. There will be days when I wear long sleeves in the morning and deeply regret that decision by lunchtime.

I love fall. I love the colors, the food, the cooler weather when we finally get some, and the way the house feels when the season changes. I just don’t live in a magazine spread where October automatically means crisp temperatures and everyone owns a perfectly coordinated collection of plaid blankets. Fall at my house is a little less polished than that. I like it better that way.

There Will Be Pumpkins, but I’m Not Opening a Pumpkin Store

I like decorating for fall. I enjoy changing a few things around the house when a new season arrives, and pumpkins are certainly going to make an appearance. I just don’t need 147 of them. A few pumpkins on the porch look pretty. Add some mums and maybe something on the door, and I’m happy. I want the house to look like someone who enjoys fall lives here. I don’t want people driving by wondering whether we’re now charging admission.

Inside, I’ll change a few things too. A little more amber, rust, brown, olive, and those warm colors that make sense this time of year. Maybe a pumpkin tucked onto a shelf or the table. I’ll switch out a few decorative pieces and probably move them three times before deciding where they look best. I know myself. I’ll put something on the mantel, stand back, decide it isn’t right, move it to a table, walk away, come back ten minutes later, and put it somewhere else. Eventually everything finds a place. Then someone will ask me where something that normally sits in that spot went. Welcome to fall.

The Porch Finally Becomes Useful Again

The porch may be my favorite part of fall. Georgia summers and porches sound wonderful together until you’re actually sitting outside in July and the humidity is so thick you feel like you’re breathing through a wet towel. I love my porch. I also love air conditioning. By October, we start getting days when sitting outside is pleasant again. That’s when I really notice the season changing. I can take coffee outside in the morning without immediately reconsidering the decision. Later in the day, I can sit for a while without feeling like the chair and I are slowly baking together.

That’s also when I start wanting the porch to look a little more seasonal. Nothing elaborate. Give me a couple of pumpkins, some mums, a comfortable place to sit, and I’m good. The leaves can handle the rest. Of course, the porch will also collect the normal things porches collect. A package someone dropped off. Something that needs to be taken inside. Petunia wandering around investigating whatever has changed since the last time she checked. That’s what an actual porch looks like. The pictures online rarely show the Amazon box sitting beside the decorative pumpkin. Mine might.

The Air Conditioner Is Still Part of the Family

This is the part of Southern fall that doesn’t photograph particularly well. You can decorate the entire house for October and still need the air conditioner. Sometimes quite badly. We’ll get one beautiful morning when it’s cool enough to open the windows, and I’ll think we’ve finally made it. Then the afternoon arrives. Suddenly it’s hot. The windows get closed, the air conditioner comes back on, and Georgia reminds us not to get ahead of ourselves.

I don’t put the summer clothes away early either. I’ve lived here long enough to know better. There will be a day when I want jeans and a cardigan. There will also be another day when I’m digging around for a short-sleeved shirt because apparently summer decided to come back for something it forgot. This is why fall clothing at my house tends to involve layers. You leave wearing them. You come home carrying them.

The Kitchen Changes Before the Weather Does

I think my kitchen realizes it’s fall before the rest of the house. Once October arrives, I start wanting different food. I’m ready for casseroles again. I start thinking about soups, roasted vegetables, pork chops with gravy, chicken pot pie, apple desserts, and things that need to cook long enough to make the whole house smell good. The crockpot starts getting more attention. So does the oven.

There are potatoes everywhere. I don’t know why potatoes feel particularly appropriate once the weather cools down, but they do. Mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, potato soup, roasted potatoes—I’m not going to argue with it. Apples start showing up more often too. I’ll buy a bag with every intention of eating them exactly as they are. Then I start thinking about cinnamon and brown sugar. That apple never stood a chance. The funny part is that I will start cooking fall food even if the weather hasn’t fully cooperated. If I’ve decided I want soup, I’m making soup. The air conditioner can deal with it.

There Is Usually a Blanket Somewhere Nearby

Once the evenings start getting cooler, blankets begin migrating into the living room. I like having one nearby. Petunia also appreciates this development because apparently any blanket I place on furniture is actually something I’ve provided for her comfort. That’s fine. I know my position in the household.

The blankets aren’t arranged perfectly either. I know there are people who can toss a blanket over the corner of a sofa and somehow make it look effortless and beautiful. Mine looks like someone used it because someone did. It may be folded, it may be draped over the couch, or it may be bunched up because somebody got up and didn’t bother fixing it. If Petunia has claimed it, all bets are off. That’s fall at my house.

The Candles Start Smelling Like Something Is Baking

I burn candles throughout the year, but fall scents are some of my favorites: apple, cinnamon, vanilla, or something warm and woodsy. Anything that makes the house smell like I’ve spent the afternoon baking when I absolutely have not is welcome. This is especially useful if dinner was something considerably less impressive. Someone walks in and smells cinnamon and apples and asks, “What did you make?” “Nothing. That’s a candle.” There may be frozen pizza in the oven, so expectations need to be managed.

I do actually bake more in the fall, though. Once turning on the oven stops feeling like an act of aggression against the air conditioner, baking sounds good again. Cookies, breads, cakes, cobblers—the kitchen smells different in fall even when the candle isn’t doing the work.

Football Will Be On Somewhere

Fall at my house also means football is going to be on television. You don’t have to be watching every second to know it’s football season in the South. You hear it. Somebody is yelling at a television, or someone is explaining why a play was terrible. Food appears that can be eaten while watching the game, and plans are made around kickoff times. Even people who claim they aren’t particularly interested somehow know what happened. Football season is just part of the background noise of fall around here.

I don’t need a perfectly styled game-day table every Saturday either. There may be chips, there may be dip, or there may be wings or pizza. There may simply be whatever we were already planning to eat. Nobody has ever refused to watch a football game because the snacks weren’t arranged on a themed serving board. At least nobody I’d invite back.

The Leaves Come Inside Whether I Invite Them or Not

Fall decorating eventually becomes a joint effort between me and the yard. I put pumpkins outside, and the trees provide leaves. Lots of leaves. They end up on the porch, in corners, near the door, and eventually inside the house because somebody brings them in on their shoes. You sweep. More arrive. You sweep again. The tree apparently takes this as a challenge.

This is one of those parts of fall nobody talks about while they’re posting pictures of beautiful leaves. Leaves are gorgeous when they’re on trees, they’re beautiful scattered across a mountain road, and they’re lovely in photographs. They are considerably less charming when you’re sweeping the same six square feet for the third time. Still, I’ll take them. Eventually the trees around here put on a beautiful show, and I never get tired of seeing it.

The House Gets a Little Busier

Fall isn’t necessarily a quiet season at my house. There are things happening. Schedules are full. Holidays are getting closer. Somebody needs something. There are meals to plan, work to do, appointments to remember, and all the normal parts of family life that don’t disappear just because I put a pumpkin on the table.

By October, I’m also starting to think ahead. Thanksgiving isn’t that far away, and Christmas is lurking right behind it. I’m making mental notes about things I need to do, things I want to cook, and things I should probably buy before I’m standing in a crowded store wondering why I didn’t handle it three weeks earlier. That’s part of fall too. It isn’t three uninterrupted months of sitting under a blanket drinking cider. Sometimes it’s drinking coffee while making a grocery list. Sometimes it’s moving a pumpkin because you need the table space. Sometimes it’s looking at the calendar and realizing November is considerably closer than you thought.

It Looks Like People Live Here

That’s probably the biggest difference between the fall pictures I love looking at and fall at my actual house. My house is being lived in. There may be a pretty fall arrangement on the table, but somebody is going to set mail beside it. There may be a seasonal towel hanging in the kitchen, but there’s another towel nearby that we’re actually allowed to wipe our hands on. The couch can have beautiful pillows and still have a blanket somebody left in a heap. There can be pumpkins on the porch and a package by the door. I can light the apple candle while making a completely ordinary dinner. Ma may need something. Uncle R may be looking for something. Somebody will call. Petunia will settle into whichever blanket looks most comfortable.

None of that ruins the season. That’s the season.

I don’t need fall at my house to look like it was arranged for a photograph. I want the pumpkins and the mums. I want apples on the kitchen counter and something good cooking for supper. I want the first morning cool enough to sit comfortably on the porch and the first evening when I reach for a blanket without thinking about it. I also know the air conditioner may kick on while I’m enjoying all of it. That’s October in Georgia. You take your fall where you can get it.