Black - and green - Friday

The day after Thanksgiving we took ourselves off to shop, as is our wont. We rounded the square, ducking into various art galleries and little giftie shops.
We browsed through fascinating cooking utensils in two downtown cooking supply stores.

Mimi discovered impatiens still blooming down a sheltered alleyway.

Imagine that!

Impatiens after Thanksgiving!

I was not surprised.

I knew there was one last daisy blooming down by the pond.
Despite the frosts and the overnight below freezing temperatures our pots are still sporting blooms.

The borage and Queen Anne's lace that sowed themselves in the rock mulch are still flowering.

.
There are still princess lilies and million bells and a petunia or two

This is decidedly not due to my tender care of them, as I abandoned all outdoor plants more than a month ago.

Mild Autumn? Warming trends revealed in local flora?

Think anything will last until Christmas?

I'll keep you posted.

November celebrations

The season is here. Within the past week we've celebrated the Beaujolais Nouveau with a party and Thanksgiving with a feast.

It is that time of year again when I take far too many pictures of food

and not nearly enough of people.

What I'd like to take away...

The farm has been sold. The house is being emptied. Mimi asks if I want anything.

Yes, I do.

She means, do I want a table or a lamp? But that isn't what I want.

I want the driveway.

I want the walk up from the front gate to the house.I want the walk from the house down to the road and across it, over the pasture to the creek.

I want the cool creek on a hot summer day.

I want the sound of water flowing and insects singing.
I want the sunlight dappling the water.

I want the barn.

I want the dusty light slipping through the walls of the old hayloft.I want the dim shade inside and the bright green light outside.I want the autumn light and the long shadows of evening.

I want the early morning light on the spring house.I want the textures of stone and leaf and bark and moss.I want morels and bluebells in the spring.I want pears and persimmons in the fall.I want the steady springtime chant of frogs from the branch,

and the bawling of calves looking for their mothers.

I want the echo coming back from the barn of voices from the porch.

I want the honking of geese overhead

and the mysterious calls of owls far off in the hills.

I want the quiet still waters of the quarries.

I want the tickle of fish nibbling my toes as I float above the rocks.

I want the porch full of people,

and the picnic table full of food.

Yes, my list goes on and on.....

But since I can't have what I want, Mimi, I'll take the dresser and your grandmother's coasters.

The 90th

I promised pictures of the big day - Granddad's 90th birthday party. He said we managed to surprise him. Not with the cake - he was along to pick it up Saturday morning.

The limo was a surprise.
Friends he knew were coming were joined by some surprise guests.

He wasn't expecting the champagne toasts.

Especially not the one with all the hats from his extensive hat collection.

He was a good sport about having hat after hat set on his head.

It amused his guests a great deal.

Notice the bags on the table?
Thanks to our researchers for discovering treats from 1919 and where they could be gotten today. The unique hand made labels were imported from Florida.

Granddad was surprised - and tickled - that a bit of his past from a long-ago newspaper had been tracked down and framed for him.

Not every 90 year old gets a tomahawk for his birthday.

The dancing girls were definitely a surprise.

There are no pictures of the fireworks, but let me assure you that they were spectacular.

"I've had a lot of parties" he said. "But I think this was the best one of all of them."

Announcement

Attention Universe!

Remember when I said I wanted a stone wall? This is what I had in mind.Just wanted to make that clear.
Squirrel is optional.

Pleasant Hill hideaway

We had a room for the weekend in the West Family House at the restored Shaker Village.

You see the house beyond the lake, among the trees.
Our room was on the third floor.

What third floor? This looks like a two story house to me.

A two story, two door house. One door for men and one for women - with Shakers the two never meet.
Inside a long flight of stairs leads up to the second floor.
A hall way...

and more stairs. Up we go.

There is a third floor! See the window of our tiny room tucked under the roof?
It was a cozy little retreat with the cold rain beating on the roof above us.

But running down to the car for something I'd forgotten? Forget it!