Time to Burst Outdoors!

 It feels like autumn at last! I step onto the back deck, feel the gusty, cool breeze, hear the leaves rattling lightly, smell the damp rain ... and I'm so happy! Summer is over, finally! Now life and joy can begin!

(I deeply apologize to those who cannot identify with this feeling against summer. I know I'm outnumbered.)

I've been physically active recently. My doctor told me that my pre-diabetic situation remains unchanged since last fall, but that my vitamin D levels were very low; this deficiency was likely causing my fatigue and achiness. She gave me a prescription for D2, and voila!!! I'm feeling so much better!

I've been clipping shrubs and suckers on trees. Totally cleaned and rearranged the guest bedroom after our daughter moved out to the Little Dependency. Dismantled a huge drafting table for Adam and cleaned said Dependency. Finished knitting my homespun sweater!! (It's a bit wonky, but I think I love it.)

Loose ends still need to be woven in. The neck opening remains too big in spite of my cinching it up along the back. The bottom hem curls up. (sigh) But it's still a very fun sweater, and I'll enjoy it. I'm working on another mitred square blanket: 

This one will be smaller than the last, and will have a diagonal pattern.

I've tried to keep walking each morning when I'm not doing other physically-challenging farm or house work. Next, I want to paint our front door a bright teal/blue.

Here's a video I made yesterday -- short and sweet. My favorite poem.

Here's another video of ambient music I've been listening to lately. Very soothing.

In two days I'll drive up to West Virginia to see my dear mother, plus son and daughter and baby grandson will be there!!! I can't wait to hold and play with him. I'll be sure to take photos and make a video.

Okay, all you lovelies, venture forth into the brisk beauty of fall and think of all the fun things coming before the year's end. Thank you, Lord!

The Pleasure of Achy Muscles

 I was commiserating with a friend recently about how horrible it's been to be housebound for the past 4-6 weeks. We've been confined in our homes because of the summer heat. By the end of August I begin to question whether I love the outdoors, because I don't go there. I think longingly of farm work on chilly days wearing a barn coat.

The other sad effect of hibernating in front of the air conditioners is a softening of the muscles. I've always been a rather strong girl, from a line of strong West Virginia women. We're an outdoorsy lot and enjoy a bit of physical labor. I enjoy tearing things down, hauling brush to burn piles, clearing limbs, raking leaves, and yanking out weeds -- as long as it's 70 degrees or cooler!

We're nearly there! The last two mornings I've hauled all kinds of debris from our old, massive burn pile. I've dragged tree limbs to a new burn pile location (in the big field). I've dug out lots of rusted metal scraps from items we burned in the old pile. I've dug out and wheel-barrowed away many loads of old ash. It was fun! I wish my body would let me do more of it. 

Why clear out our farm burn pile location? Because we want to transform it into a NICE fire pit, the kind with paving stones around it and camp chairs, where you can safely sit and roast marshmallows. This would be a lovely addition to our pecan grove area, and if we ever do turn that part of the farm into a Hip Camp location, the guests would enjoy it also.

Do you remember the Great Mysterious Hole we found in our house lot? Here's a link, if you want to read about it. In the end we concluded that it was probably a boot-legger's hole from years ago, but we're still not sure. It's become unsafe for Adam to drive the riding mower over, so we decided to uncover it again, fill it with all that metal debris from the burn pile, plus the ash, and close it up again. 

So that's where I've been hauling all the stuff too. Shovel, haul, dump, repeat. I came inside an hour ago and my muscles were not screaming at me. They were humming, awake, saying, "Ah! I remember this work! I've missed this!" It's that gentle achiness that actually feels good, so long as you don't push yourself too far.

I'm much too old for heavy work, but I don't want to become a couch-sitting ball of mush either. I'm ready for the days of barn coat and burn piles and geese calling overhead.

Hello, autumn.

"To Autumn" by John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

      For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

   Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

   Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

   Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

      Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

   Steady thy laden head across a brook;

   Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

      Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?

   Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

   And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

   Among the river sallows, borne aloft

      Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

   Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

   The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

      And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

~~~~~

I love this luscious poem. It is so thick and rich that one must read it slowly, carefully, attentively, like one would eat a very large, very ripe peach. 

Keats gives us a strange poem: iambic pentameter, but not a sonnet; 11 lines per stanza but not a roundel; close to a Spenserian stanza, but not quite.

Notice the poem's structure. First stanza: autumn's ripe bounty. Second stanza: autumn personified... what would he look like? Third stanza: the music of autumn.

I'm ready for autumn; are you? The greens are browning. Many leaves are down. I feel the plants are whispering, "May we rest now?" Nature has given over her rich bounty to us to keep, and soon she'll ask for sleep. 

I gauge the seasons by my fig tree. Today it is thin, each long branch topped by a tuft of green. The fruit is gone to my freezer and the birds.

On the ground you see what has died and fallen already, enriching its own soil.

The Worm King and Other Things

 All the photos I just selected loaded into the post in reverse order. Sigh ... do any of you still have trouble with this new blogger arrangement? I'll just go through them in this order!

I decided it's time to paint some autumnal cards. I was in the mood for ink with my watercolor.

Adam fried shrimp, squash, and dill pickles for dinner the other night. All delicious -- we dipped the shrimp in a remoulade sauce and the veggies in ranch dressing.

Do any of you remember little aprons on the dish soap bottles? I made this the other day. It needs a piece of elastic around the bottom, because it slips around too much when I pick up the bottle.

We found a lovely fabric store in New Bern! I was shocked; I thought it was just for upholstery, but they had everything, and at such good prices! The upholstery remnants were cheap. We found fabric for two more vests for Adam. This wool plaid excited him. The striped fabric will be the back and lining.

This fabric below is for the second vest. It's also wool, and is bluer than it looks in the photo, more the color of the thread.

At the thrift store this week, I found a box of silver plate flatware -- about 50 pieces. I do NOT need 50 pieces of flatware, esp. in patterns I'm not wild about. But I couldn't resist the two sugar spoons (one shown below), the butter/cheese knives, and a few spoons. We're always running out of spoons. They polished up very nicely!

The two patterns involved:

Before polishing:

Tuesday night after Bible study, the sky was this:

I have a fun story to tell. I'm part of a facebook group for beginner watercolor folks. A lady there (British, I thinkk) shared a little painting she did. Her daughter asked her to paint a picture of a worm, wearing a crown, in outer space. So she complied. It was adorable, and all of us liked and loved it, etc. Several people said, "Oh! Worm King looks like he needs to have a story to go along with that picture of him!" The artist said, "I don't have that kind of imagination." I looked at that painting and immediately thought, "I could write a story about that worm in an hour." The painting just BEGGED to have its story told; it was easy. So I told her, and then I wrote it, and then I sent it to her. She was excited about the story of Worm King in outer space (that makes me giggle!), and was inspired to keep painting pictures for the story, and her children love it! She's putting her paintings in a spiral book with the text I wrote along the side of each painting page. I don't know if it will ever become anything, but what's most exciting is that SHE is a truly gifted children's book illustrator (in my opinion -- it seems to come naturally to her), and I think my gifts are more in writing -- it seems to come naturally to me. But we both needed a prompt, a push. Perhaps more artistic folks need to push each other, ever so gently.

(This painting is by Lou Tom. I don't know her full name. But it's her intellectual property, so please do not copy. Isn't he cute?)

"... In Heaven It Is Always Autumn"

That wonderful idea came from the mind of John Donne, the great poet and churchman.

Elizabeth Goudge alerted me to that little quote by Donne, a surprising sentiment (in my mind) from a serious metaphysical poet, Dean in the Anglican church, and father of twelve children.

Goudge, woman after my own heart, says this about autumn:
"I have never been a lover of the hot days and I hope John Donne was right when he said it will always be autumn in heaven. Spring is in such a hurry but autumn has the peace of fulfillment and a still warm autumn day, with a touch of cool frost night and morning, is the loveliest weather there is ...." (The Joy of Snow 91)

Mr. Donne takes us deeper:
"God hath made no decree to distinguish the seasons of His mercies; in Paradise, the fruits were ripe the first minute, and in Heaven it is always autumn, His mercies are ever in their maturity. We ask our daily bread, and God never says you should have come yesterday. He never says you must again to-morrow, but to-day if ye will hear His voice, to-day He will hear you.

"He brought light out of darkness, not out of a lesser light; He can bring thy summer out of winter, though thou have no spring; though in the ways of fortune, or understanding, or conscience, thou have been benighted till now, wintred and frozen, clouded and eclipsed, damped and benumbed, smothered and stupified till now, now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon, to illustrate all shadows, as the sheaves in harvest, to fill all penuries, all occasions invite His mercies, and all times are His seasons."

~ from Donne's "Occasional Mercies," from Sermons Preached on Christmas Day

Pumpkins for Mags

Hello, dear Margaret in Ireland. Here are some pumpkins just for you.

 On Friday I just had to get away and see something comforting. I went to the local nursery. Her load of fall pumpkins had arrived!

 Harbourside Garden Company was not flooded in the hurricane, but it was close!

 Rachel, the sweet lady who owns this business, seemed to want to cheer the community up with this display.

 A little Pumpkin Humor:

 It's a lovely store with lots of beautiful merchandise. My favorite thing is Rachel's dog. (Her name is Mia ... or Minna ... I never can remember which.)

  So there are a few pumpkins for your autumnal needs, Mags - I hope that's helpful! I know I desperately need all things autumnal by this time of year. Our temperatures have cooled a little, the hurricane definitely brought down lots of leaves (along with their accompanying limbs). Now if we can just get these massive burn piles going, it will smell like autumn too!

It's SpringAutumnWinter ~

Around here, we get confused about the seasons. It was 70 degrees today. By this weekend, our lows will be freezing. Technically, it's autumn, but everybody else is having blizzards and ice. In this part of the South, December and April feel similar.

I'm drinking hot tea each day. I made a quick little cozy for my mini-teapot out of ultra-bulky yarn.

My daughter-in-law Shani works for the amazing greeting card company, Love Pops. They make cards so gorgeous that they are gifts in themselves. Peter sent me a dragonfly!

See how he perches on the lily pad? Look at his lacy wings!

Adam baked some apple turnovers on a chilly day. When weather turns cold and damp -- especially if it's rainy -- Adam bakes.

The apples and sultanas had been soaking in vodka for three months. The alcohol, of course, cooks out during the baking, but the fruit is left with a lovely, rich taste.

The first Sunday of Advent was also communion at our church.

The Bradford pear trees in front of the church are gorgeous right now, the perfect shade of autumn orange.

Trixie loves to play in her daddy's straw piles. She's becoming long-legged.

While snipping willow wands, I discovered an oak tree, cut off and scrubby like a bush, but it has the most wonderful color in its leaves! Here are a few:

Next to it, a crab apple is in its yearly state of confusion about whether to bloom or not.

A couple of our fig trees are similarly baffled about what season it is ... springautumnwinter?

I'm slowly making progress in my spinning. I'm more nervous about launching into this craft with reckless abandon than I usually am. Initially, I had raw alpaca fleece but none of the tools needed to process it. Adam made me a second hackle with the tines set closer together.

He also made me a new diz from a cut piece of PVC pipe, with multiple holes of different sizes for pulling the fiber through. I've made three nice coils of roving now, more consistent and better quality than the first I did. I'm hopeful. 

I don't know that I'll be able to really process yarn well until I somehow acquire a spinning wheel, but I'm having fun nonetheless. I'll probably end up with bags of roving, in anticipation of getting a wheel at some point. I bought a dog grooming comb with tines perfectly spaced for alpaca, although the tines are rather short. Adam plans to make me combs too, with longer tines.

Here's a video I've been enjoying of a lady in Virginia who clearly adores having fleece and fiber in her hands. I listen to her as background because I enjoy her voice and her devotion to the craft. This is what I aspire to be!

All the Usual Happy Things

When I came home, Adam was beside himself with happiness. We'd been apart for a week and a half, and we both are relieved to be together again. He decided I would need some spoilage when I got home, so he was ready! At the airport, he had a delicious, fresh salad from Harris Teeter in the car for me. (I hadn't eaten anything since a slice of banana bread at 6:00 a.m.) Then he took me for an ice cream cone. And when I got home:

 Flowers. And he made me a tray for the bathtub. We both love a good soak. He made it from slats from an old pallet. It has bracing boards underneath so it doesn't slide from side to side.

 He made me some bath salts with lavender oil and rose petals, so sweet! He bought a jar to put it in. Please note that WalMart, our own Proud-to-be-American store, sells jars with the U.S. flag on them, which is breaking the U.S. flag code and technically is dishonoring the flag. Hmm.

 

He bought some frankincense wands to burn. I love incense, but I've always avoided buying it or burning it at home because I somehow felt it was an old hippie/braless/Eastern mysticism thing, and as a good Christian girl ... I didn't do incense.

But Adam attended high church services years ago -- Episcopal and Greek Orthodox. So incense reminds him of church. So I said, "Hey! It's churchy! I love it!" It makes the house smell like a Renaissance Festival or a really nice tea shop. He made a quick tray for it.


And he bought me pumpkins too.

I went to the thrift store this morning because I find it calming and therapeutic after stress. I found the cutest twin bed quilt! $5.00! It's bright and cheerful. It needed washing, but now it's perfect:

I also found a fun tea towel with sailboats on it for 75 cents:

Plus, here's my chicken-lady skirt I made weeks ago. I think I forgot to show y'all:

 

I'm knitting a new scarf; love the rusty/red brown. The pattern is a *YO/K3/lift first K over next 2 K*. 

 

Before I went to Iowa I took Adam's homemade marmalade in hand. He made a lot, but it was all too runny, and he wouldn't eat it. So I cooked it down. Old marmalade on the left; new on the right:

 

It became darker when I cooked it down. I added a bit of pectin, but mostly I forgot about it until it boiled away for a bit. See how thick it is now?

We're having soup and salad for supper, and I picked some of the very last cherry tomatoes from our bush by the back door. It looks pathetic:

 

Oh, and my peaches ... well, actually Max and Anne's peaches. I finally thawed them out. I added tapioca and cooked them with a little pectin and lemon juice, and put them into jars. They are fabulous! I slather it on buttered toast. Mmmm.
That's all for now. Please do not think I do all this stuff in one day. I am not Wonder Woman! These are things I've been dabbling at for the past few weeks. I hope your autumn days are full of yarn and outdoor beauty and yummy foods and a bit of spoilage from your hubby, if you have one. These things smooth the rough bumps of life, don't they?