My wife and I went grocery shopping on Saturday and she noted my apparel — a hoodie, shorts, wool socks and tennis shoes.

Fall in Wisconsin.

I love days when you can mix your wardrobe from three seasons and be comfortable.

As the years have passed, it’s become easier for me to catch a chill. I have gone from being able to be outside at virtually any temperature and enjoy it, to having my hands be borderline frostbitten after being exposed in a cold wind for a couple minutes.

Despite the rain we’ve been having, and the cool days, I’ve found fall to be pleasant. Like everyone else, I’m waiting for the ground to dry. I’m waiting for the mosquitos to die. I’m waiting for sunshine to take over on about three-straight weekends before we’re in November.

This year’s fall has been brightened by Milwaukee Brewers playoff baseball. In addition to that, prep sports tournament time has come, the Badgers rule Saturdays and the Packers Sundays.

Most of the fall days I remember in my youth were spent playing football or hunting. Many a fall night in high school was spent with my friends and our homecoming dates completing a courtship that would change partners by Christmas formal and change again by the junior prom. High school is a delicate dance of a few years of one’s life that should be completely forgettable that one never forgets.

I spent most of my 20s in the 1990s, so that meant I watched the ascent of the Wisconsin football program and the Green Bay Packers. Every weekend revolved around the Badgers and Packers, with my friends and I yelling at televisions. On rare occasions we bought tickets and visited Camp Randall and Lambeau Field. Once the Super Bowl was over, there seemed to be a black-hole-like void until Badger spring football and Packer training camp.

My investment in weekend football was fanatical and I believe I missed out on more diverse experiences in my 20s. At the time, however, following the Badgers to their first Rose Bowl victory and then the Packers to the title of Super Bowl XXXI seemed the most important things in the world.

Then God blessed me with being a parent and I spent fall days as a father, taking my son for walks in the woods, coaching him in football and eventually teaching him how to hunt. Life took a wonderful, appropriate turn and fall became about being outside and getting a chance to relive my childhood.

Fall is, by far, the best time to take a walk — watch the leaves changing colors and nature preparing for the onset of winter.

Fall is the best time to be in love. Holding hands on a walk with blowing leaves and streaks of sunshine. Warming up in front of a fire and sharing blankets. The warmth of closeness.

Fall is about food. Hot chocolate, apple cider doughnuts and crock pot meals. Hearty Sunday dinners of roasts, potatoes, steamed veggies and apple crisp. Canning tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, fruits and vegetables. Picking the last of the garden — squash, beets, carrots and leeks.

Fall is the time to prepare for winter. It’s the time to prune trees and shrubs — give the yard a good cleaning. Once the mosquitos have been put through their frosty extermination, it’s time to enjoy evening campfires.

Fall can make me nostalgic. I remember the good times. The friends I used to see and things we used to do together. It’s much better to follow old traditions in fall and make the most of new experiences. Fall is a time of change and our lives are constantly in change.

If I were to compare my life to the seasons of the year, I’m in the early stages of fall. This is good because I’ve never been a fan of summer. I think there’s something to be said about being comfortable in warm clothing. Hugs are better when wrapped in knit sweaters or fleece.

Getting into bed at night and snuggling into heavier, warm blankets and comforters beats fighting with the air conditioner and ceiling fan to get comfortable in warm, sticky weather.

May your fall be long, warm, loving and memorable. Remind your loved ones you care about them. Make them a cherry-filled pudgie pie.

The best things in life are simple and they are the most easily shared.

— Matt Johnson is publisher of the Monroe Times. His column is published Wednesdays.