Friday Fave Five – October 9

Well, we slogged our way through another week (That’s how if feels. Just keeping it real.). Friday arrives fat with promise and intention to spend a day puttering at home. Seems like another good opportunity to look back at the week that was, because despite the weight that feels so heavy it was rich with

Seasonal Shift

I move my morning basket from beside the wing chair in the living room where I have watched the sky in all her splendour declare the glory every morning, to the den. Now, and through the dark months ahead, I’ll greet the day there, on the leather sofa under a Sherpa blanket. Cozy. In solitude

Respite

Gerry and I took a short trip this weekend and some of the gifts were conversation en route, hope resurrected, and releasing the weight of “is this all there is?”. I’ve been wrestling with depression—there, I’ve written it. I spoke it aloud a few days ago and now I’ve written it so it’s official. I’ve been in

December Days

The sun shone a few days ago. It was noteworthy because it’s been gray so we packed up our cameras, grabbed some coffee, and went for a drive. It was glorious. We talked, looked, and didn’t click the shutters on our cameras once. No matter. The sunlight did what it does so well. It revived

Autumn Mantra

Autumn’s finest has passed and it’s stick season now. There will be no more afternoon drives to capture images like this one until next year. We turn our clocks back and find ourselves in the dark. I think about putting up the lighted birch trees that take the place of Christmas trees around here. It

Exceedingly Well

It’s been an unexpected whirlwind week. Yesterday afternoon, I sat in my wing chair, reading and highlighting, while beet pickles processed in the canner. Content,  I looked over at my open kitchen with its tidy counters and big blue Ball canner boiling on the stove. We picked the last of the beets the day prior

Listening

I stand on the sidewalk listening to the scrape of a crisp golden leaf skating across the driveway in the wind, feeling both delighted and dismayed. I wouldn’t have heard the sound a few days ago. My sixty-year-old memory had forgotten the song of fallen autumn leaves whirling in the wind. A few weeks ago,