Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Thanks for the great comments yesterday. It’s abundantly clear that we’re all dealing with this right now and that sharing those feelings helps. I so appreciate you all.

Forgot to tell you yesterday that on top of everything else, I could hear gunfire throughout the morning. That means hunting season has started. You know how I feel about hunting.

The bad news? The frost killed off my morning glories and zinnias and the coleus in the secret garden. There’s probably more but I didn’t investigate everything. Also, the deer (probably our young buck) has been eating every hosta and geranium. The cheek!

The good news? Some of my roses are blooming again and the catalpa tree(s) only lost some of their leaves. I mean, they lost a lot  of leaves, but there are still plenty of them on the tree. We do have a heck of a lot of raking to do, but that will have to wait. I have to take Don to the eye doctor today for another shot in his eye.

Oh, another bit of good news: Don’s nesting instincts are kicking in as it gets colder and he’s creating some fabulous meals. I am a lucky girl.

Since I’m currently stalled on the English cottage dollhouse – I’m ordering window inserts and I have to paint and attach the door and buy some baseboard material – I put together one of my House of Miniatures kits yesterday for something to do. This one was very simple and took about 10 minutes.

I had considered using it in the English cottage, but given the space constraints, it won’t work. After realizing that, I figured I’d just keep it in its unfinished state to use sometime in the future. But then I thought of Hummingbird Cottage. To be honest, I’ve never liked the rectangular table I used in that kitchen. It took up far too much space. Didn’t like the color and definitely regretted the Pepto Bismol color of the chairs. So I tried the new table in the space and it is so much better!

The old table:

The new table:

All those straight lines needed a curve or two. Plus, it’s more cozy and intimate.

I’m inspired to finish the table (I’m not sure if it will be a stain or paint) and repaint the chairs. Or buy other chairs.

Even Hummingbird Cottage needs an update every once in a while.

Caroline, when consulted, saw the wisdom in this choice and approved.

I mentioned in the comments yesterday a piece written by James Carville, a longtime Democratic strategist. It’s in The Bulwark, an online site run by Republicans who are against Trump. I read it twice. The first time just for me, the second out loud to Don. It made me cry. It’s very inspiring and very heartening. I think you will feel the same. It’s entitled, A Crusade for Something Noble. Here’s the link.

Stay safe.

Happy Monday.

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.