We had a hard frost overnight. When I checked the weather app this morning, it was 31 degrees. As the skies lightened, I saw all the leaves falling from the Catalpa. They stay green until a frost.

It hit me hard. We had just walked around the property yesterday, admiring the catalpas and the oaks and the maples. The forecast for the rest of the month doesn’t show any nights that will go below freezing. This has happened before, of course, but this time, when I started to talk to Don about it, I started crying.

I think the nightmare that has been 2020 and the ongoing stress I feel – that we all feel – has resulted in me feeling these changes more acutely. I mourn the passing of summer and I mourn fall seemingly winding down too soon. The thought of winter and the darkness and the bare trees and the snow is always hard for me to handle. This year, I guess it’s just harder than normal.

I’m usually a fairly positive person. But I’ll admit it. The combination of this disgusting administration and the heartbreaking loss of life to the coronavirus, the fact that an estimated 150,000 of those lives could have been saved if OM had done his damn job, the upcoming election, the racism and the misogyny and the xenophobia and the Supreme Court and the complete complicity of the GOP – I’m sure I’ve left something out – has left me depressed and disheartened.

I’m no different than anyone else, of course. But I realized that the frost and the catalpa leaves falling triggered a sadness I was trying to bury in order to stay positive. I’ll be fine. I’m texting EVERY DAY for Biden up to and through November 3rd. That’s my job right now. Don is doing the same, though he does phone banking.

It always helps me to write this kind of thing down. It’s cathartic.

I found another piece of Petite Princess furniture in my stash and it’s now in another room in the vintage dollhouse. Slowly but surely, a piece or two of 3/4 scale furniture will be added to each of the rooms. Spare, not too much. That mirror on the wall is the only ‘furnishing’ that had survived by the time I got the house. It’s right where it was when I first saw it and it will stay there.

Stay safe.

Happy Sunday.

A morning snapshot:

I was sitting here in my chair – it was around 7 am. Don had just gone for a walk. I heard this sound, more than once, that sounded a bit like wailing. I put on Don’s heavy jacket (it’s in the 30s this morning) and went out on the porch. Nothing. But there were lots of bird sounds and lots of bird activity.

Went back in the house. Kept thinking about the sound. Was an animal hurting? Put on my Muck Boots and Don’s jacket and decided to walk through the woods. It’s sunny and beautiful this morning. Overhead there were hundreds of starlings in our trees chirping and calling. Amazing. I walked up the path and I started to talk out loud because, you know, the bear. As I headed toward the same clearing where we saw the bear, I saw a deer, or rather, I saw its white tail. As I bent down to peer through the trees, I realized it was the same young buck that we saw the other day. I talked to him gently and he kept chomping on vegetation and watching me. He wasn’t scared. I walked on, but then doubled back. He was still there and I could clearly see the nubs of what will eventually be antlers. I spoke to him again and told him he was welcome here.

I kept on, walking up the section of the path that takes us to the meadow. Gorgeous. Lots of bird sound. Across the meadow, above the river, a V-formation of honking Canada geese. I doubled back and kept on walking on the trail until I got to the section that abuts our neighbor’s property. At this particular point on the trail, I can clearly see one of their outbuildings, which is very close to our path, probably 10 ft away. And then I heard the sound again.

They have a rooster and chickens! That  was the sound. Not a cock-a-doodle-doo, but definitely the sound of a rooster. Due to the pandemic, we’ve only had a few brief conversations with our neighbors from a distance, so the chickens and rooster never came up. But I do remember them digging holes for something in the back yard and I now assume it was to add a chicken coop and fencing.

Ah! I sort of like that.

I reversed and walked back on the trail to the far entrance by the shed. The buck had disappeared by that point.

What a nice way to start the morning. The cool air was invigorating, the sun was shining, and there’s still quite a bit of fall color.

We are very lucky to live here. We know it and we express gratitude every day. But a gorgeous cold autumn morning in the Northeast with birds and starlings and Canada geese and chickens and roosters is a good reminder of just how lucky we are.

Though we have a frost advisory tonight, so there’s that.

Stay safe.

Happy Saturday.

I’d given up on any of the Heavenly Blue Morning Glories flowering. Maybe due to the drought? Maybe a bunch of dud seeds? Except that the vines were growing and the leaves. Just no flowers. Yesterday I glanced outside and thought I was seeing things.

What??

Apparently there had been a bloom the day before as well. Here we are, in the middle of October with a frost not all that far off, and they’re finally blooming. The mysteries of gardening – you never know. I just pray that we have a few days, or even a week, before it gets so cold that they wither and die. There’s another bloom today (this was yesterday’s flower.)

Speaking of today, it’s much colder and quite raw out there. We’ve had more rain, which is good. Next week, we’ll clear the gutters and start raking – we’ve only held off because it’s been wet and rainy. Today is a good day to stay inside and nest.

I took this the other day as we were driving home from our storage space. This road is one we take when we’re almost home and it has the most beautiful view of the mountains and apple orchards and trees turning color. We frequently pull over and climb a little hill in order to capture the view.

I love where we live.

Both Don and I have decided that the next two weeks will be devoted to the Biden campaign. I am going to text every day from 4 until texts stop at 9 pm. Don will phone bank. There’s nothing more important, so that’s where we’re putting our energy and time.

We found an older guitar of Don’s (he has so many!) in the storage space. It’s an old Gibson – he believes he bought it when he was living in Omaha. That was over 40 years ago. He’s been polishing it up and just now left to have it restrung at a local guitar shop.

I found this pillow that I embroidered when we were living in San Diego. We were living in a Craftsman bungalow and this was an Arts and Crafts era pattern. I actually made it for the very sofa it is once again gracing. I remembered it a while back and was determined to find it in my grandmother’s trunk.

I’m glad it’s back. My little Winston used to put his head on this pillow.

Stay safe.

Happy Friday.