It Was Quite a Party...

 

How can it be that this glorious month is almost over?  The colors of fall have been sensational from its beginning to its end.  It really has been quite a party.    

 The going along woodland' trails is a noisy affair these days as layers of leaves rustle beneath our feet.   Why, any critter for miles around undoubtedly knows when Millie and I go tramping up and down these old leaf-covered hillsides.  And, there's no way to know what might lay beneath all those leaves, rock or stick that might trip one up, so I lift my feet high and stick to the well-worn cattle trails.  

And, what a month for beautiful sunsets it has been.  My camera was filled with them, so that I had trouble choosing my favorites.

I have been jokingly telling my family that I will be hibernating for six-weeks after Christmas ~ a kind of Sabbatical I have been calling it.  I looked that word up and found a definition that suited my use of the word.  

Sabbatical ~ (1)A period of time during which someone does not work at his or her regular job and is able to rest, travel, do research, etc.  (2) A break or change from a normal routine.

Yes, that is exactly what I have in mind ~ just doing what to heck I please for six long weeks.

If you are familiar with The J. Peterman Company's catalog, you will know that there are some catchy little narratives describing the clothing and other items that are sold by the company.  The one below caught my eye.  

An 18th-century stone manor house.  Somewhere in Ireland.  For an entire month.  You promised yourself someday you'd do it.  Someday is now.  You did it.  It's yours.  Your own green fields.  Your own horses.  Your own bedroom windows looking down on the crashing seas.  Your own peat-burning fireplace.  Your own ancient Land Rover (which even occasionally works).  Your own live-in cook (with a few ideas of her own).

Ha! Ha!  Now how about that for a sabbatical?  (Of course, J. Peterman thinks one should take along their English Hunting Jacket.  100 per cent Shetland tweed from a 183-year old mill in northern England.  Price $298.

This was the view from my window late this morning.  It will do me just fine.  Besides, the thoughts of crashing seas frighten me. (Note those blue, blue skies.  It was another gorgeous day!  And 75 degrees!)

If you would care to take a look, Maggie Rose is modeling her new dress over at Linnie Butts & Company.  Just click on the old sewing machine at the top of the page.

Celebrating the Leaf...

 

"Every leaf looks like it is celebrating."  That's a quote taken from one of my young students back in the day.  I never forgot it.  

There comes a day when one knows that the time is right for Celebrating the Leaf.  Yesterday was the day.  It was definitely not a day to stay inside, lingering in some dark corner while there was a wild riot of color exploding all over the great outdoors.  So out the door we flew ~ Millie and Me ~ and this is what we found.  

I was proudest of the shot of the oh-so-gorgeous red-tailed hawk.  If I had taken my time and not been so careless, I think I could have gotten another of him in flight.  But, I now know where he is hunting, so I will go back another day.

We gathered soggy leaves from streams of water to roll into bundles for eco-printed cloth like we have done in previous years.   

Down by the creek, we found some very nice black walnuts that had already fallen to the ground.  I am needing some dye, and perhaps some ink, for projects I have in mind.  

~Mary

Wash Day...

Ever since I can remember, I have always loved Wash Day, which preferably is on a Monday, depending on the weather, of course.  And, it is even better if that day is sunny with a fair wind blowing.  Today was one of those days.  And, just as I do every Wash Day, I thought of my mother.  

There were five children in our family, so Momma needed any help she could get.  Even before I started school, I have memories of helping her on that  day.  By the time I was old enough to remember, she had a new-fangled electric wringer washing machine, which was a great improvement over wringing out clothes by hand.  She would stand on one side of the washer feeding clothes through the rollers, while I stood on the other side catching and gently tugging each piece to keep it from rolling back around the rollers.  On occasions, when that happened, a lever was released so the tangled piece could be removed.  I do remember her cautioning me not to get my fingers caught between the rollers.  Thankfully, they never did.

Mom had lots of clothes line space which was usually filled up, often more than once before we had finished doing the wash.  She was awfully particular about the way the shirts and dresses were hung, but not so much about the towels and washcloths which she let me hang (or peg as some of you say).  When they were dry it was my job to take them inside to fold and put away.  I liked doing it, and still remember how fresh and clean they smelled. 

Mom always said a lot could be told about a family by the wash, as she called it, hanging on a clothes line.  Why, one could almost count the children and guess at their ages by observing the clothes.  However,  I always liked best seeing beautiful patchwork quilts flapping in the wind. 

As I said before, the weather was perfect today for drying clothes outdoors.  Our linen sheets, which are now back on the bed, hardly had a wrinkle having been whipped about all morning in a brisk wind.  It is quite obvious, if you should have driven past our house today, that there are no small children living here as there used to be.  I miss those days when there were size 2 and size 3 jeans and a few pretty little dresses dancing in the wind.  But, that's enough of that.  I suppose the clothes hanging on the line here today can tell their own story ~ a story of He and I pottering about the place, thankful for another day and a lot of happy memories.

                                                                  

"We are burning daylight."

 

 I am still denying to myself that winter is right upon us here.  I am a sunshine kind of gal and like to feel its warmth on my face.  I have Millie's persistence to thank for keeping me going up and down these old trails every single day.  Here she is staring through my bedroom window while I make my bed.  She is impatient to get going.  I can almost read her thoughts, "Come on Mary.  We are burning daylight."  (That's an old John Wayne quote that I repeat often.)  I almost laughed this morning when I saw both her ears standing erect.  That happens only in winter's cold, so  here we go!  

The wax begonia in the picture above has been taken inside for the winter.  It is like the ones my mother and grandmother used to grow, so it's quite special.  It has had a good summer living in an old pot on the east side of the porch and has bloomed its heart out.  

My birthday on the first day of November has come and gone.  It was a great day with lots of phone calls and texts from special people.  My sister also surprised me with a visit.  It had been almost two years since I had seen her, so you can imagine all the catching up we had to do.  

After Sis left, Millie and I trekked over the hill to the place where the muscadines grow to see if we might be able to shake a few down from high in the trees where the vines have climbed.  Much to my delight a few were still hanging on.  With the first jerk of the vine, several grapes came peppering down around me.  I quickly snatched them up and quicker than a cat can wink his eye, I sucked the sweet juice out of those marvels of delight and then right down my throat they went.  I hope I will remember that taste all winter long.  Happy Birthday to me!  

Baby Calf is growing up.  Our granddaughter enjoys coming to feed him and gives him lots of love.  He is doing well and has grown quite a bit since this picture was made a couple of weeks ago.    

I will end this post with another of our "Working Late" photos.  We had just finished vaccinating calves when I noticed how beautifully the clouds had formed in the east.