You know it's a low cloud cover day when your living room is dark even with the lights on. When your kitchen feels like it's supper time rather than breakfast time.
When your walk to feed the animals is quick, so quick that you don't bother thinking much about the photo opportunities. Possibly because you do not see many photo opportunities.
I don't mind such days, if truth be told. My candle adds that soft glow to the farmhouse, my couch time feels as good as I imagine a day in a spa would feel: relaxed, meditative, warm. I boil up water for a tea that I toted back from Paris. Leftovers from all the tea I drank in my little attic room on the Left Bank. Bliss.
At noon I head out to pick up Snowdrop. She is off from school (that's a Madison thing: schools close for a good part of the last week of October for inservice stuff) and so she is rested and energetic.
Still, we do a lot of reading. So much to take in!
So much to enjoy. (She wants to bake. We bake.)
Because of the way the schedule plays out, she and I are picking up Sparrow at his school today. Oh, it does bring back memories! Until March 2020, I was at this school daily, picking up both kids, bringing them back to the farmhouse for their afterschool play here. Then, during the pandemic, Snowdrop grew out of preschool and Sandpiper was born and now the kids are spread over many different childcare situations. They are lucky though. All of it is good. No one is complaining!
Later, on the way back to the farmhouse, I stop and pick up our last CSA veggies. Two boxes today -- one making up for the missed week while I was away. Hey, do you remember the first CSA box of the season, back in May? It was full of green stuff. An exciting beginning to the growing season! Now the box is loaded with squash, brussels sprouts, beets. Celeriac, onion, kale, sweet potatoes. Is a spring box better than an autumnal one? Of course not. They're both amazing.
Evening. Still cloudy, a little drizzly. Late Fall weather. Ed and I like seasonal changes and so we take in this phase in much the same way as any other time of year -- with a little bit of curiosity and a lot of patience. In spring we wait for the flowers to appear. In late fall? For that first snowfall of the year. So that we can be out in the forest again. We just have to wait. And the lights around the house twinkle and shimmer, and the soy candle burns slowly, and I chase cats away from the kitchen counter as I reheat leftovers for supper.
