Wishing you well this fine November day, however the day finds you.
Just wanting to let you know that–even though I am not blogging lately–all is well in our Little House in the Big Woods.
We’re almost prepared for winter. Everything battened down, harvested, caulked, put away in shed and garage and house.
On Friday it snowed. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to admire (or decry) on Halloween. The witches and goblins laughed hysterically. Almost an inch remained on the ground Saturday morning. Almost four inches tarried up in the hill country. Today it’s 50 degrees (10 C) and melted.
I made sweet squash pie in an oat-walnut crust yesterday. When you eat a bite or six, the maple syrup tastes like the sap of trees, sweet trees, ever-rising.
Our leaves have fallen to nourish the earth, all the bright colors now resting soft upon the ground, blown hither and yon by Wind’s pleasure.
I don’t know when I shall blog again. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps in two weeks. Perhaps after the new year. Perhaps never.
I keep checking in with the inner compass. Is it time to blog again? After six or seven or eight years of intuition saying “Yes, now!” most regularly it lately usually says “No, let’s stay still.”
Thinking of you fondly. Would like a piece of pie? Shall we dollop some vanilla-agave yogurt atop and love it more than whipped cream?
Blessings to all of you. Maple syrup and snow and intuition blessings. May this turning of the season find you well. More than well, I hope. Or, at the least, looking for the gift in Life’s changing, the presents in the Present–even with its challenges.
That’s what I keep doing, anyway.