Wednesday Witterings . . .

 

 

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It's a bit chilly in here this morning. I may soon have to start putting on some heat. I am thinking it might be time to turn on the in-floor heating in my bathroom as well, as much as I hate to do so. I just really hate getting out of the shower and being cold. It's one of my pet peeves.  Why are bathrooms so cold?  Every house I have ever lived in sported a cold bathroom. It's like the heat runs out by the time it gets to the bathroom. We kept a portable gas heater in our bathroom in the U.K. We turned it on when we were getting washed. It made a huge difference.

 

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Eileen had an iron infusion yesterday. She only found out about it the day before. I suppose they are getting her ready for her surgery on the 5th.  She will be coming back here to stay the night tonight as there is a couple of really important phone calls coming in tomorrow morning. Three to be exact. Pre-op calls. Getting everything ready and in place before the big day.  It will be here before we know it. Then we can concentrate on moving forward and healing.

 

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Something told the wild geese

It was time to go.

Though the fields lay golden

Something whispered. -- 'Snow.'

Leaves were green and stirring,

Berries, luster-glossed,

But beneath warm feathers

Something cautioned, -- 'Frost.'

All the sagging orchards

Steamed with amber spice,

But each wild breast stiffened

At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese

It was time to fly, --

Summer sun was on their wings,

Winter in their cry.

~Rachel Field (1894-1942)

I've heard a few flocks pass over already, and I am putting my hummingbird feeder away today I guess. It's getting to be that time. Every time I look at the trees at the end of the road or behind the houses across the way they have changed colour even more. It started at just the tips of the trees, but it is slowly making it's way down. Change is certainly in the air; all around the faintest flicker of russet and amber are appearing from leaves on the cusp of a spectacular transformation.

I love the light at this time of year. It seems to cloak everything in a golden glow shortly before sunrise and sunset, revealing the unexpected and casting the usual walks with a magic haze. These next few weeks are going to be filled with transition. The artist in me wants to crack open my sketchbook and pencils, my watercolours so that I can capture these moments. Perhaps I can just take photos and then sketch and paint later, in the winter months when I am looking for a little bit of colour.

Maybe then I'll have more time.

 

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The kids have been back to school now for several weeks. How can that be that we are already on the wane of September??? Only 7 more days. It hardly seems fair, but there it is. We have had frost warnings for several nights now and the moon is "Waxing Gibbous."  I had to look that up. A waxing gibbous moon marks the Moon’s steady progression toward full illumination in the lunar cycle. It begins just after the first quarter and lasts until the full moon. Typically it rises in the afternoon, is high in the evening, and sets after midnight. 

Things like this fascinate me.  All of nature fascinates me. The next full moon, according to my Susan Branch Calendar will be on the 26th of October. The Hunter's Moon.

In any case, tis said the September moon belongs to lovers even more than the Spring moon.  Indeed, if we could fill a silver cup with that moonlight, and drink to the last pearly dregs, we should be young forever.  For the September moon has a pure luminous mystery that makes everything beautiful, everything magic. The masked colours of early autumn glow in it's light, all the little streams run silver, and silver rises the smoke from burning leaves.

There is as yet, no taint of withering or death in the garden, in the field, or the orchard. The world is perfect and the heart is happy.  The sky looks like a blue meadow full of gardenias, but the moon herself is a white rose. And down below, the old earth turns in her orbit under all this eternal glory of the heavens.

And the pale gold leaves begin to fall from the sugar maple.

 

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On Sunday we dropped off all of Eileen's things to her place before we went to my sister's. We go through the industrial park for part of the way. There are a few empty fields and on one such field we saw some deer munching. Not a care in the world.  We have seen these same deer there before. They always spark my heart with wonderment. Deer are such gentle creatures. Well, the Does anyways, the Stags are quite majestic in appearance with that crown of antlers atop their heads.

Its funny how in most of nature, the male of the species always out-flounces the female in appearance, stature and behaviour. Brighter, more colourful and preening.  At least that is my observation. Feel free to correct me if I am wrong. 

 

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Do you have fall clothes?  I seem to wear the same thing all the year through, perhaps adding a sweater on really cold days or in the winter months. My wardrobe rarely changes.  But I can remember when I was a child how at this time of year the box that was in the back of our closet would come out and all of the autumn/winter things would come out and the summer things would go back in. The ankle and knee socks, shorts and pop tops would be replaced with wooly stockings, undershirts and flannel.

I have added an extra blanket to my bed . . .  in obeisance to the changing season . . .  I could/should drag out my duvet. It is buried in my closet and finding it will take some doing, but 'tis that time of year I suppose. 

I regret to say I have not gotten far in my new crochet project.  I have found myself quite unable to sit and just concentrate on it. My brain seems to be all over the place these days. I am having a difficult time focusing on any one thing. It is chaotic at best. I have a lot on my plate I suppose. My adhd brain doesn't seem to be slowing down sufficiently for me to get in all that I need/want to do.

Top of the list is to transform that back bedroom from a store room into an actual room fit for Eileen's recovery. A part of me is afraid that my ex or his wife will take one look at it and say, 'she's not for staying here.'

But where to put everything that is stored therein   . . .  that's the fifty dollar question.  I better sort it out soon for time is quickly slipping by. Really I should tackle it like one would eating an elephant. One slow bite at a time.

And with that it's just about nine a.m. here and the time has flown so I will end this now with . . . 

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

☾ ° ★° * 。  

• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

*A friend is the first one to come in

when the whole world has gone out.

~Anon

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  A Traditional Old-Fashioned Boiled Dinner.  With meat, vegetables and a delicious parsley sauce. Simple, hearty, and delicious. Economical too. It makes a small piece of meat stretch affordably.

I hope you have a most wonderful day.  Filled with light, love, colour and hope. Whatever you get up to, don't forget! 

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And I do too!