Autumn. Cold, even windy, with rain. It's really here, and we keep layering for warmth, for comfort. It's so nice... to wear jeans, socks, to shiver when a door opens, to welcome a simmering pot of soup. I guess I've made these remarks already. This year.
Last year. But it's so nice. Too nice to ignore, to lovely to diminish. And there's so much compensating to do for all the grousing over our long extended summer. Even repeating my
so-happy-it's fall mantra feels like a favorite song, one to sing again, and again.
Yarn is everywhere! In the car, on my lap, beside the bed, on the sofa. I crochet at school, in the parking lot, and between loads of dishes or laundry. I crochet when Geoff and I sneak in a date-breakfast before he heads into work. I've made
more shawls, and I am not a smidge bit tired of this pattern, but have only grown to love it more. This time I finished my plain wool shawl with a few rounds of wild homespun wool... all nubby and irregular and warm with colors. I realized I could make little wreaths, like ones I admired as a child... I wondered how those were made, and now I've devised my own little recipe. I'm giving them away. Happy tokens. And I am still making squares for
the blanket, and that's making me happy, too. Pretty soon I will finally look-up "blocking" and decide if that's a skill I need to learn.
I check Ada for wool. She grows a fluffy layer under her coarser coat, and I like to think of her as my wooly caterpillar and prognosticator of what sort of winter we are due for. Wet? Cold? Terribly wet and cold? We shall see. Poor Tasha doesn't grow any of that lovely wool, and maybe that's why she likes the rain even less than Ada... which is
not at all. Our chickens have made a feathered mess of their molting, and poor Koa looks a fright... missing so many feathers she looks like a shabby duster. I hope they get plump with plumage, very soon. Hazel Nutt, our Ratty Rat, builds a new nest every evening, and only comes out for breakfast. Breakfast and dinner are most favoritest times of day. As for the kitties... they are finding laps, clean laundry piles, quilts, anything slept on, and spots where the sun is warming. It has been remarked that Mister Foo, especially, is practically another species of being in wintery weather...so affectionate and obliging. Chango is dear, and snuggly, more than ever, and we dote on him with extra endearments.
Oh! I almost forgot...
dryerballs! All over Pinterest, you'll find recipes and prescriptions for these little wool wonders. I made four, and besides being easy to make, I have discovered, already, that they do work very nicely. One in the dryer to replace dryer sheets and softener. No static! Everything nice and soft, and it even reduces the drying time. Wet cotton socks hot and dry in twenty minutes. (Is that fast? I don't know, but it really seemed faster than before.) Anyway, I love ours so much, I am thinking I'll make gifts. If no one thinks they're a fabulous gift for the dryer, then they can try juggling, or give theirs to a cat. Mister Foo thinks they're grand!
For the record, in case I give an impression of too much cheer and
fa-lalalala-la, yesterday I had an emotional meltdown over... oh, I forget. I think it was probably many, many little things, stress, low-blood sugar etc. But I felt like kicking things hard, and slamming things harder, and then I sat with my chickens, ate a sandwich, and went around the house and said
Sorry and
I love you, to everyone. My problems are no smaller, but I think I will recommit to appreciating that although life is neither smooth, nor tidy, (not in my experience, anyway) it is blessed, and full of goodness, and full of opportunities to make it better, and as I am doing my very most sincerest best, I really must not beat myself up, or surrender to defeatist thoughts. Also: Naps. A nap under a favorite quilt can do a world of good.
I am sending out happy tokens, and best wishes... for all the world, peace.
