The Season of "Lasts"

Anyone who has been on social media with me for the past twenty years knows I hate fall - but don't truly hate it. I hate the crass commercialization of it. I don't like the massive waste and consumerism of Halloween. I am angry about the extreme commodification of nostalgia and perceived comfort. The effect it all has on both our finances and the planet is deeply disturbing to me. On top of that,  I simply prefer summer including summer food, summer fashion, summer activities, and prolonged sunshine.

It is the end of summer I want to talk about today. This is the season where I am confronted by the end of everything I miss. The gloom descends on me like a horde of white girls in sweaters flocking to Starbucks on August 25th.

It all started on Sunday night when I made rigatoni al pomodoro for dinner. It was a simple meal. I heated a few glugs of olive oil in a sauté pan, warmed two whole lightly-crushed garlic cloves and a pinch of red pepper flakes in it. Then I added three pints of cherry tomatoes I bought at the farm market along with a handful of torn basil. I cooked it until the tomatoes broke down into a mush. I seasoned it with a bit of salt, added a ladle of the pasta water from the pot, and threw the pasta into the pan with some Parmigiano-Reggiano. I tossed it all together before removing the garlic cloves and garnishing it with a few more basil leaves. It was a perfect dinner. 

I posted it on Facebook with the sad commentary that it was likely to be the last time I ever make this for dinner in 2026. It's September and tomato season is winding down. Once the frost arrives, the tomatoes will be gone from the market. I'll have to rely on canned tomatoes until next summer.

(Right now a few of you might be tempted to remind me tomato season is likely to last another month, but between our upcoming vacation and our current rehearsal schedule, I'm not going to have time to do much cooking. I'll be relying on CookUnity for a while.)

Then I realized something. Tomatoes aren't the only summer pleasure going away. That's what truly makes me sad about this time of year (besides the fact that people put pumpkin in everything). It's time for me to let go of pleasures I don't want to let go of.

For example, my main venue for swimming in the summer is the pool at Mom's complex. It becomes vitally important around Labor Day for me to get that one last swim in. This year the pool is staying open until the official end of summer, but the weather and my vacation are working against me. (To me, being able to fit in another outdoor swim after Labor Day is like being offered an extra dessert or having a surprise early release from the office - an extra, unearned but appreciated treat.) Early September is the last time I am able to swim outdoors until next summer (unless Kevin and I manage to schedule a vacation to a warmer climate). 

Last week I went for a pedicure. I know it's going to be my last pedicure for months. Soon it will be too cold for me to want to wear sandals. I don't have much need for pedicures if I'm not going to be wearing sandals. 

(I know I could still get pedicures for my own pleasure, but I rarely have an extra half hour to sit there waiting for the polish to dry before I can put my socks on. If I am getting a pedicure post-sandal season, it's for a special occasion, a vacation, or I am in serious need of a pick-me-up.)

It's also the last time for produce other than tomatoes. There are no more berries, peaches, or watermelon. As the weeks go by the green beans, the corn, the peppers, and the plums slowly start to disappear. I'm left with mostly hard squashes. I hate hard squashes.

It's not only the last time for sandals, but gradually I have to leave my cute skirts and dresses - significant sections of my wardrobe - in the closet for long periods of time. Stockings and closed-toe shoes replace bare legs and sandals. Then boots replace the shoes as winter arrives. Then it's too cold to regularly wear skirts and dresses at all. 

Soon it will be the last day the sun sets after 7PM. A few days later it will be the last time the days are longer than the nights.

November comes and it will be the last time I see the sun when I come home from work and then the last time I see the sun when I leave the office.

It will be the last time there are leaves on the trees. Everyone talks about how beautiful the foliage looks in the early-to-midpoint of the season. However, as the name suggests, the leaves eventually fall away, and late fall means ugly bare branches. Flowers die. Everything looks dead and barren.

There are some bright sides. The last days of fall are in December and the Christmas season is a helpful distraction. It is a last hurrah before the winter doldrums set in. Winter will come and it will be miserable, but I will adjust in time. Fall is the transition and it's rough on me. 

I'm not saying there is no joy in the season either. October is a month of celebrations like anniversaries and birthdays. Fall is usually a theater season (and it is this year). I'm not a Halloween lover, but I go to Halloween parties when I'm invited to them (in costume!) and enjoy them. I have been known to frequent (or even perform in) haunted houses. 

I know I have friends who vehemently disagree with me. They want to eat all the pumpkin crap. They want to wear heavy clothes. They are obsessed with Halloween. They think driving in two hours of traffic to drive to a crowded, muddy, buggy orchard to pay for the privilege of doing manual labor is the height of autumnal fun (there are better alternatives out there). They look forward to the first frost or the first turning of a leaf the way I look forward to my first swim of the summer. My lasts are someone else's firsts. I accept that.

I need to be sad for a bit. I mourn what I am losing. Maybe there are others who are happy to lose it and are looking forward to the season ahead (and won't stop talking about it) but I need to adjust. I will still enjoy what's ahead. I will bake apple pie, take photos of leaves, buy and wear new sweaters and boots, and maybe even do something for Halloween. I'm not incapable of being happy and enjoying the here and now, but I still miss what I have lost.

Three things to remember.

1. Fall 2026 is giving me a vacation, an anniversary, birthdays to celebrate, and a new show to perform in.

2. I say fall is a long, slow slide into winter, but it's not winter. Honestly, I should celebrate it being not-winter while I can.

3. Summer will come around again in its own time.