Friday, October 30, 2009

October




There's just something about October that makes me want to put the garden to bed, tidy things up around the place, get organized, make bread, eat honeycomb by the spoonful, knit, spin, sew, make jams and fruit butters....is there an internal instinct to survive that which is to come? Maybe, although the sense of urgency is not embroidered into the beckoning. We have picked apples, incorporating the delicious fruit in both sweet and savoury feasts, as well as simply enjoying their crispness along with wonderful cheeses of all moods. Larry bought some cheese back with him last weekend from a retreat up at the other end of the lake, where the monks make delicious cheeses...just the ticket for a sunny fall lunch, alongside a tall glass of Cold Hollow Cider. Here's a jacket, designed by a friend, that I have recently made for that Sapphie Girl, and a cozy sheep hat, the pattern to which I found in Woodstock a couple of weeks ago, on one of our fall exploring days...


There's just something about October...

Monday, October 12, 2009

Did you know...?

Almost home...and there you were with your brother, playing in the road, you poor, silly deer! I saw you, but it didn't help, because there was a long line of cars coming the other way...if you made it, you'll be a little sore tomorrow. Did you know that I tried to miss you? I almost did, didn't I? Do you know that my heart is broken tonight? Did your brother escape? No sign on the road at all afterwards; but a thump, and a dull, sickening ache in my heart are all that remain. I wish I could make you feel better...wish it hadn't happened.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

On a hillside in the Autumn, on a warm September night,
Maples flashed their firy plumage, heralding the goose's flight.
Farethee well, deer honkers all, love you dearly, hear your call.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Glacial treasures


And can it be that these green hills have known the depth of glacial chills?

Have felt the slow, determined path of moving ice, and cracking glass?

When did the earth warm just enough to shape the lake, the ridge, the bluff?

And can it be that these green hills can know the joy and sense the thrills

That threaten to o'ertake me now, and leave me with the wonder 'how'?