Wednesday, 9 October 2013
A bit of this and that, and everything in between . . .
The back garden was filled with Starlings yesterday afternoon. Although they are a resident bird of the UK, each autumn they migrate here to the UK from Sweden for the winter months. Loud, noisy and greedy, they are also quite comical to watch, or at least . . . that is my opinion. You are very lucky indeed if you are able to witness one of their murmuration events, when they take to the sky en masses and do an aerial dance that is magical to behold, undulating across the sky like the waves on an ocean . . . back and forth and up and down. It's mysteriously beautiful . . .
We do not migrate as the birds do in the autumn, but there is a noticeable change to the rythm of our lives when the summer ebbs and flows into autumn . . . cooler nights, dreamy days filled with a blue haze . . . there is a quickening in the blood, a sort of restlessness, the need to get all of those projects done that need being done before the winter frosts and the snow flies . . . in a way our own human form of migration I suppose.
If you are lucky enough to have a wood fire . . . your winter fuel must be stacked neatly, a portion of it held by the back door, handy enough to quickly grab a few logs without freezing unduly in the Winter months. I remember the sound of the dull thud of the log hitting the bottom of the wood bin by the stove which kept our kitchen warm in one of the houses we lived in yonks ago. I remember too, that early morning crackle as I stirred up the ashes from the night before and got the fire blazing to warm things up before the children awoke and began to make their preparations for school . . . a pot of oats bubbling away on the back, keeping warm, soon to be ladled into pottery bowls and topped with cream and brown sugar . . .
but we are talking about that last quickening of our rythm, the autumn migration of our souls towards the colder months . . .
There is kindling to be chopped, windows and cracks to grout and make fast for the cold winds we know are coming . . . this is when the hard work of clearing up begins in the garden, with the pulling of dead plants and cutting back of others . . . spring bulbs need putting in . . . there seems no end to it. Sunny days are well used for this purpose. Oh, I do love to smell burning leaves, don't you?
The house gets a last airing too. Our bedding gets changed to it's winter mode with warmer sheets and blankets. All get an airing on the line . . . having been put away clean in the spring, they still benefit from this little ministration, the October sun and wind giving them a lovely freshness and fragrance in preparation for stuffy winter rooms. The last of the apples and pears are picked and wrapped in newspaper and stored on shelves in the outside shed . . . likewise the butternut squashes. Onions are picked and hung to dry. I do love a shed that smells like drying onions and cooling apples and pears . . . there is naught else quite like it on earth . . . would that they could bottle it and sell it like perfume . . .
We had a lovely evening with the missionary sisters last night. I had made them a nice dinner and we did speak of what we had each taken from the words of our church leaders at the weekend conference. Interestingly, but not surprisingly . . . each of us was fed spiritually from their well of wisdom in unique and individual ways. I love it when that happens.
I was so excited to hear from my friend Jo last evening. She was the housekeeper in the Manor when I first went to work there. We became good friends. She left two years before I did, but we have always stayed in close contact. She and her husband are great companions. In fact, it was a year ago the end of last month that they spent the weekend with us in London when we were down there for the turkey awards, and that was the last time we had been able to see them. They are going to be up our way this weekend and we are going to be able to get together, so I was really happy to hear that! Monday will be our day with them. I can't wait! Todd and I will have to try to think of something fun that we can do locally with them. Our thinking caps are on!
Todd has his flu shot this morning. He had marked it down on the calendar as yesterday and he took himself down to the local surgery for it mid morning, only to find out it is today . . . so he will be stirring soon and making ready. I best get a move on as my day will disappear soon enough.
I leave you with a thought to carry with you . . .
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"Peace in my heart . . .
peace in my soul . . .
wherever I'm going
I'm already home."
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There's a mess of Bubble and Squeak cooking in The English Kitchen today!
Have a great Wednesday. How can the week already be half over??? It's crazy! We must be having fun because time is flying!