Sunday, October 12, 2008


It's Autumn. There was frost covering my motley assortment of surviving veggies in the garden two mornings ago. I thought I would dread this season. Less sun. More rain. More mud....No Jeff.
But I am finding, so far, I am finding comfort in the cold nights. The wood stove burning at the foot of the stairs. The board games on the kitchen table. The return of my 'craftiness'.
The sunshine that comes now seems golden or older. It is less intense and a delicious treat when it's out. The chilling rain forces us inside and together. I slow down. I take a breath and play with the kids. Not worrying that there was something that I wanted to get done right now. It's too cold. It's too wet. And I want to stay home. With the kids, the woodstove and some quiet.
We've harvested most of our garden's offerings. We've taken to feeding the fall orb weaver spider, Charlotte, that resides on the kitchen wall the last of this years flies stunned with the zapper racket.
I've stacked as much firewood as we have for this year. We've raked leaves and found creatures in the yard with the same instincts that we hunker down, get cozy and be still.
I wish Jeff could be here to enjoy the warmth in this little house. To snuggle under a blanket. To giggle at Liv's holey mouth with the missing teeth and Briar's sweet little grins. To deal with the hot water tank that blew this morning (argh!). To enjoy his little ones piling on top of him in the mornings and cuddling into his warm furry chest with their chilly little toes. And to share in this feeling of home, family and closeness.
But I am thankful that I had him for the time that I did. There is a line in this song that says, "I'm glad I didn't die before I met you." It makes me cry and marvel at how amazing it was that we were here at the same time. And that we met. I was truly blessed. And for the time we shared together, I am eternally grateful.


Kate said...

Nice veggies!! We're just planting our winter garden down here.

Krista said...

I often think of that about all the people I meet. Elderly, newborn, it's such a special thing, being on the planet during this small window of time it takes to meet each other. Even more beautiful is that fact that you brought two beautiful babes into the world during this time you shared with each other. Thanks for the perspective shift, as always.

T said...

There is this ethereal light that comes through in your writing, even when you're writing in what could be your darkest moments of your day. It helps to keep me grounded. I have such a love/hate relationship with this time of year. I love how it smells outside, but I don't love the extra coats and hats needed to be out there.

Rach said...

A big spring hug from way over here. Your stories of Jeff always make me smile (and usually cry). I once had a friend (haven't seen him for years) that reminds me of Jeff - fisherman, hairy and one of the funniest people I knew. I thought he was kinda of a strange man that always smelled like the sea. But under that beard and damp coat, he was gentle and hilarious. I think the sea must attract hairy, funny gentle giants. x

Mama Randa Morning Glory said...

What a cute salamander! (or "sallie" as we sometimes call them) I wonder what kind it is? My little 5 year old herpetologist thinks it might be a Smallmouth Salamander, but his identification skills are more accurate when it comes to snakes.

leigh in the sav said...

a gorgeous song. and thoughtful, sincere words. hope you continue to find the beauty that remains.

Marissa said...

great entry.

that pic of briar is so full of expression & detail. you must have a rockin' camera.

that salamander made me jump. ewww. i hope to someday become the country girl i wish to be but i have my doubts.

Marissa said...

I meant Liv in the great picture.

I guess I was hung up on Briar with his ewwy salamander & wrote his name inadvertently. ;)