Sunday - 233rd

My bear side is emerging. I look outside, glance at the thermometer to confirm what I see, and think -- now that's where I don't want to be! Light me a candle, pour me something warm, and leave me alone indoors until spring.

Of course, this mood does pass. I'm not total bear and hibernation is not really in the books. But on days without a schedule and without many options (want to hang out at Finca Coffee Shop? Not gonna happen...), the temptation to stick to the warmth of the farmhouse is huge.

The morning walk -- late, despite the extra hour in bed -- shows me what I already know: the dazzling colors of Fall are behind us. We're entering the season of naked trees.

The winds today are something fierce. All the more reason to walk briskly and return home.

Ed is huddled upstairs under the quilt even longer and it truly is embarrassing to admit the hour of our breakfast.

 

We're getting one last hurrah of unseasonably warm-ish temperatures this week (before we plunge into the abyss off winter weather) and I put off all farmette work until then. Bulbs to plant, weeds to remove, winter beds to prepare -- that will all be piled onto the next few days. For the time being, I note the solid ice in the cheeper water dish, shake my head and go inside.

Still, I hate to start a new month with so few steps. Ed and I finally do force ourselves to do a walk along the road by the lake. It's our least taxing stroll. Totally mindless, in fact. Right up there with a hike through the construction sites of the new development, except there's nothing new and interesting going on here, by the lake. It's an established community with established homes which we have looked at so many times, even as none stand out. 

 

Still, the bracing air knocks out some of our late Fall lethargy. We appreciate the sun (even if it does recede a whole hour earlier than yesterday), the quiet, the occasional bird that shares the space with us. 

At home, I cook Sunday supper for the young family. 

A quick hello at their back door and a very blurred photo, prompting me to kick myself for not getting my camera's low light settings in place today. I mean, I knew the elimination of daylight savings time would give us darkness at dinnertime...

At home again, Ed and I eat our share of the prepared food and make plans for more time outside tomorrow. The winds die down, the night is quiet and the moon -- large and luminous.