Autumn: Gateway to My Favorite Time of Year

I'm definitely a minority among the people I know. Especially here in Colorado, where sweating and being outdoors is a religion. I don't like summer. More specifically, I don't like warm/hot weather. It makes me feel lethargic and like a big slug. I come alive when the wheel turns from summer to fall. The months between the autumn and spring equinoxes resonate best for me. And I'm still OK from the spring equinox to the summer solstice. Then things go to hell. Anything warmer than 70 degrees is too warm. Give me a brisk day with a clear blue sky or a rainy, chilly interlude. Yes, even throw in some snow that piles up and is measured by feet, but which melts from the laser heat of the sun the next day, so that I don't have to drive on it. Since returning from my brief tour of London, I've been down with a cold. The plane on the way back was filled with coughing, sneezing, non-tissue-using passengers, all clustered within a couple of feet of my seat. Had I known, I'd have worn a hooded rain slicker and an oxygen mask. London was great -- huge, very different from America, and filled with ancient, historical buildings/memories/rituals. I can't wait to go back and explore the rest of England and Scotland. I keep thinking how awesome it would be if I do ever sell anything as a writer, and I get to go to the UK for a book signing, or something. There's rich fantasy material. I got an email from one of the agencies who has my full ms, saying it was still making the rounds. I'm trying not to make up dire predictions about what might be going on. And the other agent's website says it takes at least 2-3 months for her to read a full. Too early to be antsy. This writing business is stressful.