It's All Hard To Believe

The calendar says it's the middle of November and we're having Indian Summer weather.  When I got up this morning at 5:45 the outside temp was 41.  Now in early afternoon, with a glorious sun having been shining all day . . . well, it must be in the 50s.

 

Shutting down for the winter months may be something we're ready for but with this kind of weather so late in the season, we can't justify doing it.  So outside tasks that we didn't think would get crossed off the list this year are being done during the short daylight hours in each day.  Ready for a rest we may be, but using this unexpected time to accomplish a couple more fall tasks is worthwhile.  As Martha would say, it's a good thing. 

 

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Recently my daughter noticed a small quilted wall hanging of an appliqued turkey I hung on the wall and asked if it was new as she didn't remember seeing it before.  "Gosh, no," I replied.  "I made that maybe about five years ago.  Or maybe even six or seven years ago."  Taking it down from the wall I looked at the date I put on the back when I completed it.  2003.  Twenty years ago.  Oh, my.  Where. does. the. time. go?

 

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I can't cook worth beans lately.  I've forgotten how apparently.  Nearly every meal revolves around something burned or missing an ingredient (or two) or it just has a strange (not good) flavor.  Same recipes, same methods of preparation but nothing seems to come out right.  Plus, danger, danger!  I walk away from the stove and leave a burner on.  I'm thinking the only sensible solution is to hire a full-time cook.  Yep, I need to be replaced with a newer model. 

 

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Friends are stopping in tomorrow on their way through to another destination so I should tidy up the house a bit.  But how dirty can it be?  I did a thorough vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing, cleaning . . . when?  Couldn't have been more than three or four weeks ago.

 

 

Stuff

Rain threatening to turn into snow tonight and through tomorrow had us scrambling today to get a couple of those most necessary tasks done around the homestead.

 

I lent my brute strength to help Papa Pea haul our sport boat to its winter parking spot, unload it from the trailer, turn it upside down on blocks and then store the trailer.  It's really only a "little" boat but both of us have taken some Arnica to make sure a couple of tweaked muscles while manhandling the boat around don't bother us or inhibit a good slumber tonight.

 

I plant Scarlet Runner Beans in the garden each year mainly for the beautiful display of red flowers they give us for most of the season.

 

Our daughter then lets the beans stay on the vines for as long as possible hoping they will dry naturally.  Most years she has to hang them inside her house to complete the process.

 

The bean pods this year grew nearly a foot long and were plentiful.

 

Then she shells the dried beans, puts them in one of her homemade boxes and gives them to friends as Christmas gifts.  They're really an attractive bean with their black and pink coloring.

 

Papa Pea found the time to sort through our apple harvest of a week or so ago.  Not a good year for our apples as the harvest was light.

 

Our best ones are from our crab apple trees.  Or I should say one of the two crab apple trees.  The one from which this apple came gave us an abundant crop.  The other one didn't do much at all.  I like that these crab apples are quite a good size, and they're my favorite for an eating out-of-hand apple.

 

Another reason the main apple crop was disappointing is that much of the fruit was afflicted with either bitter pit or apple maggot.  At first I thought it was bitter pit but by the appearance of this one I just cut open, it looks very much like apple maggot.  Papa Pea thinks we have both problems.  Ugh.

 

It just seems the right time of year for gingersnap cookies (there's a wrong time?) so that's what I baked late this afternoon.  It created a delightful aroma throughout the house and happiness in bellies.

 

There.  I did it.  A new blog post.  And my brain doesn't even hurt.  Much. 

Thanks For Caring

It's undeniable that the calendar proves I haven't put up a new blog post in over a month now.

 

I've been truly touched by the concern for my well-being by you dear readers.  I'm glad to say that my well-being is intact, but I have definitely lost my blogging mojo.  It's gone, disappeared entirely.  Where or why, I cannot figure out.

 

Do I have writers' block?  Or the fear of posting boring fodder that's of interest to no one?  Is it rebellion against the time that sitting and using modern technology takes from actively living in (what used to be) a more personally interactive way?  Do I suffer from the inability to intelligently  share my thoughts and pictures in a post?

 

Yes, to all of the above.

 

My daughter has more than once said, "You should write about that on your blog, Mom."  Huhn.  Each time, I realize to do so has simply never entered my mind, nor can I summon up the will to do it even with her gentle persuasion. 

 

I'm not throwing in the towel and deciding to never blog again.  But how long it will take to unscramble what's going on (or not going on) in my head is up in the air.

 

In the meantime, know a couple of things:  1)  All of us are alive and well while continuing to live our much appreciated lives making repairs, doing maintenance and creating improvements here on our little homestead while having taken time for some new mini-adventures and recreational outings during this past gorgeous fall season, and very importantly, 2) I want to say it warms the cockles of my heart knowing my posts have been missed by those of you who have communicated with me.  Thank you so much.