The change in the weather.
We are definitely leaving our lovely, long fall behind and heading into the wild ways of winter. We had a solid quarter-inch thick coating of ice on the bird bath this morning.
It snowed most of the day yesterday. But with the temperature hovering in the mid-thirties, it melted as it hit the ground.
I've been working inside for the last several days because it's been generally nasty outside. What have I been doing? Cleaning and organizing like a mad woman. A MAD woman, I tell you.
Using psychology on myself (is that dangerous?), I've decided that if I use the remaining days of October to get some of the jobs done that have been hanging fire for way too long (ones that until now I've found all kinds of excuses for cleverly avoiding), I will reward myself by taking laid-back, do-what-I-wanna-do, fluff-off time in November. Having this goal to work toward has infused me with all kinds of energy for tackling big, ugly-bugly jobs. ('Bout time.)
One really big cleaning job I have to get done in these last remaining days of October is the garden. The weather has been so wet that recent forays out there have felt frustrating and futile. The most I seem to accomplish is collecting about ten pounds of mud adhered to each foot.
If we get the next couple of days of sunshine which is currently being forecast, I simply MUST spend it in the garden (regardless of Frankenstein-like boots). Not having the garden ready for winter by this time of year is very unusual for me. Still seems so strange to have things growing and producing out there the next to the last week in October. Mother Nature is definitely fooling with us here in the northwoods this year.
It's not supposed to be any warmer today than the low thirties so it won't be the most pleasant time for harvesting all that is still in the garden, but it must be done. We've luxuriated in our warm, extremely pleasant, long fall . . . and now the piper must be paid.
Now where are my insulated mud boots and long johns?