I can't believe how dark it is in the mornings now when I get up and how early it is getting dark at the end of the day. It's really become quite noticeable. I know time just seems to be whizzing by. Wasn't it only a few days ago that the sun was rising at 5 a.m.? It sure seems like it!
We are off today to take Mac for his Vet appointment. He is still getting monthly shots of antibiotics and a painkiller for his stomatitis and that growth in the back of his mouth. There is hope that he may be able to get laser surgery to remove it. We have our fingers crossed.
We plan to stop at the egg farm on the way back. I hope they have some chicken I can buy. I am done with the chicken that you get in the shops. It's tough, tough, tough. And I am not the only one saying that.
Frost, and the sunshine after had reddened the hawthorn sprays, and already they could see through the upper branches -- red with haws -- for the grass was strewn with the leaves from the exposed tops of the bushes. On the orange maples there were bunches of rosy-winged keys. There was a gloss on the holly leaf, and catkins at the tips of the leafless birch. As the leaves fell from the horse-chestnut boughs the varnished sheaths of the buds for next year appeared; so there were green buds on the willows, black tips to the ash saplings, green buds on the sycamores ....
Thin threads of gossamer gleamed, the light ran along their loops as they were lifted by the breeze, and the sky was blue over the buff oaks, Jays screeched in the oaks looking for acorns, and there came the muffled tinkle of a sheep bell.
~Richard Jeffries, From Bevis, 1882
I love reading things like this. So descriptive . . . you feel almost as if you are right there. It reminds me of autumn treks through the orchards and footpath that ran at the end of the drive of the cottage in Brenchley. I used to really love my autumn rambles through the English countryside. For the time that I was there, it really was such a beautiful environment to be able to live and work in. It was almost like living in a little bubble set apart from the rest of the world.
I still have not gotten a pumpkin. I am never quite sure how you pay for one. Do you pop one into your cart and then go inside to pay. Or do you pay inside and then pick one up on your way back to the car?? Can you tell that I have never bought a pumpkin? I really do not know how to do it, as silly as that may seem to some.
All the woods and trails have been opened now, and people are allowed to burn between certain hours. Any fires that were burning are now considered to be under control. We have had a few days of steady rain and there is more to come, so things are not as dire now as they were. Jennie was here to do my toenails yesterday afternoon, and she said she heard a woman at the tils at the grocery store complaining about the rain.
When I hear things like that, it truly beggars' belief. How could anyone complain about rain after the drought we have experienced this year?? Some people are just never happy unless they have something to complain about.
I am reminded of the first year that I spent in the U.K. It rained literally almost every single day. When it wasn't actually pouring down, it was misting. It felt as if we were breathing rain. There was a great deal of flooding around the country, especially in the Southern areas that were prone to flooding. Now, that is too much rain. This little bit we have been having here and there? Nothing to complain about. I, for one, am grateful for it.
Cinnamon has been becoming much more affectionate lately. When I am sitting on the sofa watching television she is usually to be found behind me on the sofa back. She purrs and reaches down to me wanting me to rub her head. Occasionally she has lay beside me on the sofa. She always did come and tread on me now and then, but has never really lay next to me.
This was her the other day. She was all cozy and comfy right there next to me. It warms my heart. They both warm my heart. I love the pair of them very much.
I watched someone painting maple leaves as foxes yesterday on Instagram and they had them strung up like a garland. It really made me want to do the same. They were just so cute. I have a back yard full of maple leaves. I should go out and gather a few, dry them and see what happens. Watch this space.
A really cute idea. I probably won't do it, but it is a cute idea. I don't know why, but, I like foxes.
Country Wisdom for Autumn:
Mild winter coming in;
Onion's skin thick and tough,
Coming winter cold and rough.
Mom was always superstitious and believed in all the old folklore and wives' tales. Many were merely urban myths, but a lot of them had their basis in fact and truth. Being able to tell the difference between fact and fiction, there's the rub. Many had their roots in nature and people used to watch nature very closely and learned how to predict weather etc. by the tell-tale signs of nature. Like bees building their nests close to the ground foretelling an early winter, and other things of a similar ilk.
Jennie, the lady who comes to do my toenails every six weeks is a woman who could talk the ears off of a dead donkey. She never runs out of things to talk about or say. She is a true conversationalist and knows how to tell a story. I think that is what they used to call having "the gift of the gab." There is nothing wrong with that. The Irish are well known for having "the gift of the gab." I know this to be true. Every Irish person I know could talk the ears off a dead donkey. I am thinking Jennie must be part Irish. I should try to remember to ask her if she is the next time she comes. The cats are quite used to her now. Nutmeg usually sits on my lap and watches her work. Cinnamon usually lays close by, also watching.
There is not much that cats do not notice. They take note of every new thing and person which comes into a house. All must be inspected and sniffed.
I do make an effort to shut my bathroom door now before people come in, just in case. I don't want Nutmeg jumping in behind the washing machine again because he is scared. It is too darn hard to get him out.
Cats also tend to come out whenever you settle yourself in to do something like sewing, painting, or writing. Mine do at any rate. And Nutmeg is more likely as not to just sit his bottom down on whatever it is you are trying to do. And this is my fault I know because I did not set proper boundaries when they were small. I am not complaining. Just making note of certain behaviors.
Many yards are filling up with spooks and ghoulies now. It is interesting to see just how far some go to make their yards and homes look very Halloween-Ish. I am not one of those.
For me, it’s never been about fright or plastic, wispy ghosts, witches' hats and creepy crawlers. It’s about atmosphere. Story.° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
*“When witches go riding
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