Simple Pleasures

 

"The real things haven't changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong."

                                                         ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

Making A Start

The Thanksgiving dishes have been returned to the cupboard for yet another year and today i made a start on the Christmas decorating.

A little here, a little there, and before you know it, the house is transformed with the magic of Christmas.
I think we could all use a little magic right about now....

Thanksgiving Blessings

Count your blessings instead of your crosses;

Count your gains instead of your losses.

Count your joys instead of your woes;

Count your friends instead of your foes.

Count your smiles instead of your tears;

Count your courage instead of your fears.

Count your full years instead of your lean;

Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.

Count your health instead of your wealth;

Count on God instead of yourself.

~Author Unknown

 

A Blessed and Happy Thanksgiving from our home to yours............

 

Ode To Autumn

An overnight freeze and ground still warm from a day of sunshine started  our morning with an eerie mist.

By noon, sunshine had returned, and garden chores were undertaken. Leaf-gathering, pot cleaning, and a general all around tidy up, giving one last chance to put the garden to rest for yet another season.

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells."

~ John Keats

Cottage Love

 

A cottage small be mine, with porch

Enwreathed with ivy green,

And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,

'Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,

With eyes as fountain clear,

And braided hair, and simple dress,

My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,

And talk o'er early vows,

While stars look down like angels' eyes

Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells,

And bright-winged parrots call,

In forest paths be ours to rove

Till purple evenings fall.

The curtains closed, by taper clear

To read some page divine,

On winter nights, the hearth beside,

Her soft, warm hand in mine.

And so to glide through busy life,

Like some small brook alone,

That winds its way 'mid grassy knolls,

Its music all its own.

Love in a Cottage ~ Daniel Henry Deniehy 1828-1865

                                                            

The Turning Of The Leaf

Finally, a little Autumn color has crept in.

Just in time for a blustery wind, to blanket the ground with autumn brilliance.
Raking leaves now sits at the top of the "to-do" list.
And a portly kitty spends her days chasing them.

 

 

 

  

 

 

 


...I see
the turning of a leaf
dancing in an autumn sun,
and brilliant shades of crimson
glowing when a day is done...

~Hazelmarie "Mattie" Elliott, "

 

Fall Back

 

 

Last night at exactly 2 am our semi-annual clock fiddling took place once again.

An hour backwards from Daylight Saving Time, affording an extra hour of sleep on these colder mornings.

Just enough time to remind us, that the year is winding down, and soon, a long sleepy winter will be our companion.

A time to regenerate our weary souls, and make new plans for the coming year ahead.

A time to dream.

 

November

Our first Autumn freeze has blanketed the fields whilst we slept.
Thankfully the Chrysanthemums had been covered, and the remaining tomatoes gathered off the vines.
Tonight, more of the same predicted, and then back to our days being filled with sunshine and blue skies.
The lingering smell of wood-smoke fills the morning air.

 

 "The hazy, cloudless skies of Indian Summer.
Leaves scurrying down the street before the wind.
The cold shiver from an arctic blast.
Indian Summer. The last warmth of the sun.
Chilly mornings and glorious warm afternoons.
The Harvest Moon. The Hunter's Moon. The Rainy Season.
Dry corn stalks clattering in the wind.
The touch of frost on grass and window pane.
The smell of burning leaves."

~ Keith C. Heidorn