no-vember

here in new england, we are in the throes of our first-of-the-season winter storm warning - and it's not even time for the season to begin. if you've been reading these ramblings for any length of time, you know i have a love/hate relationship with snow. normally i anticipate the first flakes with glee and, when it arrives, i am wonderstruck all over again. but this year feels different already. i think it's because i haven't had november yet. i need time to linger in the garden, bedding plants down for the cold, to collect the spent seeds and package them up for spring. time to tidy up the yard and pile away the adirondack chairs and push the little girl one more time before the swing comes down. time to take a last walk in the woods in the quiet, leafless sunshine to collect greens and twigs and vines for the winter window box. i need time to pause, quietly, and wait for winter to begin. i need my november and, if the forecasts are indeed correct, this may be the year november doesn't happen.  

first snow

i haven't cut back the gardens. 

i haven't brought in the herbs. 

i still have screens in the windows. 

not ready for this - yet. 

in the pockets

thank goodness for pockets! today's contents include, from the top, counterclockwise -

a hastily scribbled note to myself. this year's beach rock from summer vacation. a wad of bills held together by a gold paper clip. two calcium pills i forgot to take yesterday and will no doubt forget to take again today. three, count 'em, three flash drives. the end of a roll of antacids. a house key in case i lock myself out again. microfiber cloth because someone keeps getting smudges all over my glasses. hand sanitizer - you can never be too careful. lip balm for preventative reasons. my cellphone - yes, the one i still haven't upgraded. a set of tweezers i was moving from suitcase to bathroom but they haven't gotten there yet. not shown: the spare sugarless gum chiclet i always carry in case i run out. 

blue!

this is what you get when you ask for a band-aid at the front desk of a hotel on your way to church. it lasted for all of ten minutes before i just couldn't take the color any more and i took it off!

eureka

yesterday after work i spent much too much time going from one store to the next in search of a new coffee pot. i thought i knew what i wanted but i couldn't find it. i ended up tired and cold and caught in the rain. by the time i got home, i was miserable - and had no coffee pot. as i drifted off to sleep very early last night, it dawned on me to look online. so this morning, between hair and makeup, i bought the perfect coffee pot for less than i would have paid in the store, even with the discount. free shipping, and it's being delivered to my door on monday. i don't understand why i didn't think of shopping online in the first place. i could have saved myself a whole lot of time.

saturday morning sunshine

i love the angle of the light this time of year and how 

sunlight slides in the window this early saturday morning. 

october 12 of 12: autumn in new england

admitting up front that i have taken great liberties with this month's 12 of 12 photos. i have long known that this month would feature autumn in all its splendor. it was the natural (no pun intended!) choice. but the forecast for midweek was for more rain and i was concerned the 12th would be soggy, wet, and dull. so i went out earlier this week, on a perfect indian summer afternoon when it was too glorious to be inside, and i took these twelve photos to depict this month. forgive me this indiscretion. i promise i'll follow the rules in november.

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a field of cornstalks yet to be cut down. 

i see this large maple most days, surrounded by evergreens, which makes the color even more brilliant.

maple leaves in the afternoon sun.

a maple standing solitary in a bog, shot with a telephoto lens. 

lots of folks decorate with pumpkins from their gardens. i love these gracing an old stone wall. 

golden-yellow oak leaves.

a marshy area nearby. this is one of my favorite shots. i like how muted the yellows, golds, and browns are and how the red and even the green contrasts. 

looking up the river, wishing i could see farther around the bend.

horses basking in the autumn sunshine. man and beast enjoy this last hurrah of summer, knowing that very soon the air will change.  

a meadow nearby. i often see deer up the slope, but i think it's too early today.

looking to the north

not a great shot - i was trying to capture the leaves in the breeze as they cascaded to the ground. 

this is fall!

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old meets new

at one time, this was a window in this old house. now the window frame holds hanging pots in my kitchen. i removed it today to wash the wall behind it. when i rehung it, it looked a tad crooked so i went in search of a level to check. i had to laugh at this meeting of old and new. there's an app for everything!

8am saturday

stumbling to the clothesline before i even had coffee, this is the sight that jarred me awake. still in pjs, i marveled at the beauty of this saturday morning.

of all the long weekends in the year, this one's my favorite. summer's tasks are done but it's not yet time to begin the winter ones. today i'll shop for apples at the farm stand and woolen socks at the craft fair. tomorrow i'll bake and paint. i may begin to clean up the flower garden this weekend in anticipation of putting it to bed next month. but at some point, i'll be sure to go barefoot to the adirondack chair to read or doze or just daydream. it's that kind of weekend. it's that time of year.

what's in a name?

the last time i served beef stew to the little girl, she turned up her nose, pushed it away, and told me she didn't like it. and she wouldn't eat it. after a few month's time, i tried again tonight, only this time i called it beef wonderful. and, no kidding, she ate the whole bowl. maybe her tastes have changed. or maybe beef wonderful was just too wonderful not to love.

freaky fungi

this weekend, we've had some very damp and chilly weather, the kind where you finally pull on socks and get out the windbreaker. more of the same is predicted for the next several days. imagine my horror (and fascination!) when i looked out the window this morning to check the conditions and i saw this: the lawn has become a mushroom field. the place is covered with all these little drab flat-topped mushrooms. i have no idea what kind they are or when they grew or why they are so prolific. it's almost scary. i imagine this aberration speaks not only to the state of the weather but also to the condition of the topsoil and the grass itself. will these things spread even more? will they ever go away? if they do, will they reoccur? and what do i do about them now?

here comes color!

and so it begins, quietly, in the wet and boggy places...

clone clothes

here are four shirts, all new within the last few weeks, all identical, except for color. when i find something i like (the brown one), then i buy another (the orange one). when i wear them and find how comfortable and utilitarian they are, how they can be worn under jackets or dressed up with scarves, i go back and buy two more (the maroon and the green). only by now, they're on sale! even better!

i so hate to shop. buying duplicates is one of the shopping strategies that gets me through one season after the next. but i think this is the first time i've ever bought four of the same item. four! better get out the scarves!

car talk

sometimes, when i'm driving alone, i talk to myself. yes, out loud. usually it's replays of insignificant conversations i've had in the recent past, interactions i've had where i've said the wrong thing, given bad advice, made the foolish comment, been too tongue-tied to say anything at all. but in the car, i get it right. i am insightful. i am witty. i am astute. 

i know how pathetic this must sound. but it's not the reworking of the conversations that bothers me. it's the fact that i do it at all. am i destined to become one of those old ladies who carries on a conversation with herself, even when she's not alone in the car? this is what concerns me the most!

for a change

a while back, when one or another of the seasons were changing, someone commented that it seems we are unhappy with the season we have and are always looking forward to the one that's not yet here. i've been pondering this as summer changes to autumn. i do love summer and i hate to see it ending - but the anticipation of cool air, clear nights, vibrant colors, and all things fall is still somehow exciting yet comforting to me. i love to get ready for fall - and i'm almost there.

my favorite socks

oh darn.

close call

here we are, only in the midst of september and last night we had our first frost advisory! there's another posted for tonight but since we escaped it last night, it's unlikely it will happen tonight either. phew! i adore fall - but i'm not sure i'm ready to totally give up summer just yet!

september 12 of 12: small joys

after being so melancholy yesterday, i woke up this morning happy to find a new day before me. i had no real plan for the 12 of 12 for the month, and just began taking pictures of things that made me smile and feel happy again.

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morning fog. truly, it doesn't happen often enough in these parts for me. but when it does, i love walking outside and into it, knowing that it's just a big cloud all around me. fog always makes the world feel so ethereal and magical. 

commuter coffee. it still feels like an indulgence after all these years of drinking my second cup of the day in the car.

light up sneakers. i laugh watching kids run in these, with their toes all blinking and flashing off and on. i wonder about how the shoe is made to do such amazing things. and i secretly wish someone would manufacture them in adult sizes.

missing teeth. always good for a big smile. from me and from the small friend.

prepaid gift cards. cleaning the dashboard cubby and finding there's the price of a few coffees still left on them.

late summer on one side of the road...

and early fall on the other!

crisp white architecture. i have passed this house at least five times a week for the last thirty years. and i never really noticed the wondrous detail in it until today, when i stopped the car to photograph something else!

bare feet in the cool grass. after a long day of standing on them, i'm very happy it's still warm enough to do this!

the last black-eyed susan of the summer. even though it's pretty scraggily, it was a big decision whether to pick it and bring it into the house. i ended up leaving it in the yard, thinking it might last a little longer that way.

tree silhouettes against an evening sky. any time of year, these amaze me. so detailed and intricate, they make me wish i could draw them with pen and ink. 

the almost-full harvest moon. it lights up the night and makes the landscape almost as ethereal as the morning fog did.

a decade later

today was a hard day, much tougher than i ever imagined it would be, full of memories of the 9-11 attack on this country ten years ago. even a decade later, i cannot bear to see the photographs, watch the video, hear the accounts of that day. this week i've tried to watch some of the tributes that have emerged but even they are still too jarring, too surreal. today i found myself silently crying at times and unconsciously praying at others - and i was full of restless energy. so i created a baking frenzy in the kitchen this morning, my default activity when i am upset. later i cleaned and scrubbed and organized, trying to create order. outside, i marveled at the sunshine and the bright blue sky, so reminiscent of that tragic day. at the end of the day, i went out to find the perfect photo to represent my feelings about today. and i just couldn't.

ticket to ride

brilliant sunshine after a week of rain, driving home earlyish on a friday afternoon, singing along to twenty-nine of the beatles greatest hits on the ipod. what could be better?

time for mums

normally i don't buy chrysanthemums this early. but i couldn't bypass this vibrant color, new to me, and was afraid if i waited, it would be gone. so bring on fall. i have mums and i'm ready. 

labor day laundry

here it is, a day from labor day, and i still have not replaced my defunct clothes dryer, gone now for over ninety days. not a great clothesline day today so here i am at the laundromat, drying my clothes with quarters. i wonder if this may become the norm as i return to work - and i'm not looking forward to those prospects. when will i make the time in my busy life to do this? what will i give up? yet as i watch my wardrobe tumble, i reflect on times past, when there were no electric dryers and no laundromats and i wonder how families managed to clean clothes then. clearly, their laboring must have been very different from mine. i'll try to be mindful of that when i next feel like complaining about my situation. and i'm going to keep looking at dryer sales.

late summer's eve

evenings seem to come earlier and earlier these days. as the daylight dims, the air cools quicker and there's a faint anticipation of fall to the air. biting insects are just about gone now and the yard becomes an outdoor extension of the house - quiet spots to read or work or dream. birdsong in the evening has ceased, sadly, but has been replaced by a chorale of crickets singing well into the night, an end-of-summer lullaby drifting through the still-open windows.