It’s been raining endlessly for three days (I know, we need it so I shouldn’t complain) and now it’s snowing. Big, fat, wet flakes. Sigh. I can step back and admire them from afar, but frankly, I’m not ready for snow. Tonight, the temps are going to go down into the low twenties, so all of the porch plants will be hauled in (I am incapable of letting them die when I know it will get warmer) and I expect that everything on the property that is still going strong will have disappeared tomorrow. Leaves will fall, the burning bush will be a memory, my roses that have another bloom in October will be gone, the catalpa and oak leaves will fall to the ground.
I realized this morning that yesterday was the fifth anniversary of my Dad’s death. How can it be five years already? That means that February will bring the fifth anniversary of Scout’s passing, as well. We lost Dad and Scout just a few months apart.
A bit of a melancholy morning as I contemplate the change of seasons, the upcoming time change, the loss of loved ones, the loss of my garden, and the slow, crawling, seemingly endless expanse of time until Tuesday and beyond.
I worked on the other window in the dollhouse yesterday. I texted for a few hours. I’m doing all I can for the Biden campaign until there’s nothing left that I can do.
Right before I went to bed last night, I put some of the furniture back in the dollhouse to see how things look. Is the paint I’m using on the trim the right color? What kind of baseboard should I use? What color should I use on the kitchen island? If only I had endless amounts of money, I could buy those pieces that I have marked as favorites on Etsy and eBay. What kind of wallpaper should I use in the bedroom? And on and on it goes. I think I’ll play dollhouse on this snowy day.
Stay safe.
Happy Friday.