I effing love Fall. This afternoon I ordered my first PSL of the season. Overpriced, pumpkin-y goodness.
As soon as it was in my car, it filled Mr. Pickles with an aroma that comforted me like a hug. My smell-memories associated with PSLs are all good. All of them. It made me think so many conversations. Giggles with my cousin while lounging around. Important chats with important friends, lovers, acquaintances. Hellos and goodbyes.
And, no. I don't think it's a coincidence that in the picture the cup appears to be glowing in all its glory.
Sometime in the process of ordering my tasty treat, removing and replacing baby carseat in the car, and driving home, I cut my knuckle open. It bled all over my finger. And I didn't even notice until about ten minutes ago.
THAT, my friends, is the power of PSL.
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