Candor Creek

Tiny details. About a week ago I was a white, 30-something female with no Halloween decorations, which I'm pretty sure is illegal. I did used to have a really cute stuffed pumpkin in grad school, but I think I lost that to the mold house. Anyway, I seem to be somewhere between Harvestcore and Semi Spoopy Lite - both of which are hilarious because my nerves can't handle anything of a Spoopy nature well and I am so horrifically allergic and reactive to all the natural prettiness of the season. I'm not wholly bereft of the season, however; I seem to naturally manufacture lovely autumnal scenes now in my kitchen with all the squash and baking that happens behind my still-closed windows. A few years ago it was brought to my attention that not many people say "autumn" in my area, while that is my default name for the season. Having moved a lot as a kid I do have a cobbled together dialect and I still get remarks as I move as an adult. I don't mind, but once in a wh...

Current training spot. I'm experiencing the closest thing I've had to a proper outdoor autumn in four years thanks to a recent increase in meds, so I figured it was worth sharing. No geocaching or solitary hikes, of course, but I've at least been able to tolerate outdoor training with my dog underneath a pretty tree - as long as it's on a steroid day and immediately followed by a shower. No pics of Summer; she was highly stressed today and I do not believe in taking pics of stressed dogs unless it is for educational purposes. You'd think I'd be more self-conscious sitting in the middle of my apartment's courtyard with the possibility of all those neighbor eyes on me, but the goal of getting Summer comfortable is far too important to let that sort of thing slow me down. The job obliterates the paranoia. It always has.

Not actually 4AM - it was 5. AM. It's that bewitching time of year where the temperature drops at night, and we welcome the coolness into our homes along with the smells and sounds of autumn... ...but my sequestering intensifies, as does the temperature in my home, because heat rises and stops in a closed second floor apartment. All windows remain firmly shut as they have since last snow because my body chooses to fight, with ridiculous and dangerous fervor, all of that autumnal welcoming in particular. See that tall spike? That's my worst mold allergen starting to kick in. I was blindsighted by three epi-pens in 36 hours the day after the spike. I have new tools this year. Increasing the H2 blocker (and possibly the H1 blocker) seems to be keeping me on an every-other day steroid schedule instead of a daily regimen, and my array of ice packs help when my body suddenly forgets how to regulate its temperature, which happens a lot more when trying to do things in an...

...and this is just the beginning. Autumn, bitchessssss. ...and all yall haters, pumpkin spice shamers, and people who chuckle condescendingly when a white girl in a seasonally-colored sweater smiles at the falling leaves can go suck a big one. This autumn-loving white woman has been pretty severely ill for the past two autumns - multiple-ER trip, bed ridden, windows sealed, life-changingly ill - and I've missed the cooler weather and the colors. My soul needs the extra time baking in the kitchen. Autumn used to be my peak geocaching season, and I loved everything about wandering around in the woods, finding rocks and taking pictures of leaves, even if I never made the find. This year I've been learning how to navagate life with the MCAS diagnosis and its various sensitivities. Thanks to wearing my UV-blocking clothing in and out of doors along with increased use of my mask outside I've so far been able to stay out of an emergency zone for the entire month of Sep...