November . . .

 

As the days of November unfold before us,  leaves spread a cloth of gold and amber on the ground.  We are surrounded by cinnamon coloured fields and frosted purple wild blackberry canes.   The leaves on the blueberry bushes have turned scarlet . . . whilst rain falls in long leaden lines of determination, and colours slowly fade into sobering hues of nothingness . . . can frost be far behind?  I think not . . .

The wind has exchanged it's soft and musical tones for a mournful sound, marking the rythym of autumn's impending end, and howling down the chimney making one shiver and pull the woolen rug which lays over the arm of the sofa down over the legs.  We turn the light on for the electric fire, just so it's flickering flames can warm our souls.  No heat just yet.  We are not ready for that . . . but the flickering light almost does the job . . . the mind is a beautiful thing.




Each month arrives with its own special kind of rain.  In November the rain is steady and determined and . . . fearfully grey . . .  sheets of leaden steel falling from pewter skies.  The back garden squelches with every footstep.

Mitzie stands forlornly on this side of the gate gazing wistfully through the slats, mournfully longing to gallop and slosh down it's length and breadth . . . but alas,  we forbid it . . . wet and muddy dogs are not our cup of tea,  and baths are not hers . . . and so this compromise is what she has to live with.

She is not adverse however to cuddles by the fire, which more than make up for sodden romps through a water logged garden . . .

The fish lay at the bottom of the pond now, rarely coming up to feed.  It won't be long now before they stop coming up at all . . . and too . . . the frogs have borrowed into the mud to hide until the warmth of spring sunshine bids them come out again.



We are a bit like the fish and the frogs . . . burrowing into our homes . . . lurking beneath woolen rugs and nestled by crackling fires . . . venturing out of doors only when must needs be, or when the rain stops and the sun decides to shine . . .

May the final phase of life
Be like the earth in autumn mood,
Rich with blessing and contentment
Full of peace and quietude.
For all mercies glad and grateful,
Having neither doubts nor fears,
May I walk with my beloved
In the autumn of my years  . . .




Two little spooks down Canada way  . . .  so sweet, and their mum too.  Have Tigers and Fairies ever been so sweet?  I think not  . . .

It must have been fairly mild there this year, not a coat in sight.  I can remember Halloween being freezing, freezing as a girl . . .  the ground frozen and having to wear mitts.  We got about 10 trick or treaters last night.  The most ever!  Maybe next year I'll decorate!

We watched Into The Woods last night . . .  the first hour or so was alright, but then it got really boring and we switched off.   The singing was nice.



On this first Sunday of November 2015, I want to bear my testimony to you.   God is real.  He is our Heavenly Father and He loves us more than we can possibly imagine with a perfect love that never fails.  He sent his son Jesus Christ to show us the way back to Him.  The Saviour is real to me.   I feel his presence and nearness every day of my life.  The power of the Atonement is amazing.   It heals.  It uplifts.  It saves.  It helps me to endure all that I must.  It is empowering and life saving.  The Gospel of Jesus Christ contains all that anyone needs to make their life brighter, better and filled with happiness, peace and joy.  Unlike pleasure . . .  it never fades.  It is constant like the North Star and will guide you to a better place both in this lifetime and in the one to come.  The Holy Scriptures are the roadmap and  users manual for our lives.  Feast on them, for they contain the things we need to know, and can sustain us through the hard and difficult times that make up the fabric of life.



I baked cookies to take to the Missionaries when we go to church today.  I have missed baking full fat/full sugar goodies.  I hope the kids like them.  I did save a few for Todd.  You can find the recipe in The English Kitchen . . .  Caramel Apple Oaties.

Happy November!  Have a wonderful Sunday.  Don't forget!


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And I do too!