The days dwindle down

Back from Vacay, I hardly know where my head is. I can’t wait for the election to be over. I’m aghast at the pandering, the lying, the bias of all media, pick either candidate, though I’m not surprised because every single day the appalling attempts to mold public opinion grow more gross.

It is so past time to start using our own brains. Sorting through the mud and mire takes time and dedicated discernment. What did we ever do without WikiLeaks shedding the spotlight on the material they expose. Lots to think about.

The better subject is the gorgeous arrival of autumn tiptoeing in dressed in gorgeous finery. The young woods outside my bedroom once again share their yellow lit leaves in blazing color, painting the walls lemon. It is my favorite season, with crisp mornings, warm afternoons and cool evenings needing a light sweater. The blue skies are clearer, never mind the morning fog lying over the small pond. By 10 o’clock the fog is gone and crystal clear brilliance edges everything with a sharp quiver. It is the rare time I simply observe without effort or anxiety that the morning is getting away and I have nothing to show for those hours. False; it is food for the soul. Respite from the poison of politics.

We spent time with delightful family we rarely see, in Georgia. The drive was long coming and going, but did it safely, a true feat in itself. Georgia was enjoying very temperate weather, without rain and so we spent lots of time just relaxing. But we are glad to be home, finding we have new neighbors, two librarians, to occupy the house next door. I look forward to their presence. Change happens whether we pay attention or not. I live in a very stable neighborhood, where most of us are home most of the time. To know an eye is kept on my home when I’m absent, that the mail is picked up and held for me, is a comfort, and a neighborly courtesy we all extend to each other.

Time to do the travel laundry, press and fold and put away. Time to bring in the ferns, a tiny bit tipped with brown after one night of frost, time to put the porch furniture under the deck, time to have the chimney checked since it’s been a while when we had a fire in it. Time to pull out recipes for soup nights with grilled cheese sandwiches. This is my fave season, did I say that again? and try to make the most of it. Several varieties of apples in the crisper, cider in a jug, spice cake on the schedule, bourbon and a cinnamon stick, you see I’m getting ready. As winter begins to threaten I make jammies time in the morning with hot chocolate and marshmallows with my toast, warm slippers and lazy hours in front of a warm fire, thinking what to write about next.  Or not. In winter I’m a contented slow starter. I own that. I admit it and take great advantage of the available time. I’m making up for the pace I kept in my youth. Yes, I still remember with fondness and no regret. With knowing smiles.

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