Wednesday

Well, it's time to restock the candle supply. It's tricky: the candles that don't ruin your lungs (soy, flaxseed etc) are expensive and buying something online that has a fragrance is risky. I don't like pungent sweet smelling anything. I'm always on the lookout for that gentle whiff of a forest. Maybe with a red currant note. Along with birch sap, pine needles, crab apple, leaning into a forest of firs by December and maybe tomato vines by March or April.

You have to trust your seller here and unfortunately, it does not translate into consistency. I love Brooklyn Candles for their Christmas tree scent -- it really is fantastically close to having a tree in your house. But I don't love their flowery stuff. And Kobo -- they're the ones with the tomato vine fragrance, but why oh why do they have that marketing ploy of selling their rustic pine candles in boxes that "you can plant?" One commenter noted with glee that she has 120 acres of planted pines and so she will definitely plant the seeds in her forest. Well now, good for her! But honestly, even if we had a 120 acre forest, I would not enjoy digging up a place to put in a cardboard box with a few seeds stuck to its interior. Spare me that chore, especially in the winter.

This year, I'm putting most of my candle funds (candles are that expensive! they require a savings plan!) into Skandinavisk. I've not been burned (!) on their gentle scents. Indeed, today I lit their Fjord candle (the day called for it!) and I have to say, it's the best investment against gloomy weather I have ever made. 

[A note to those who care about environmental factors and air quality: candles, no matter how delicate and how closely they resemble a pine forest or a bed of tomato vines, are never as good or healthy as a walk in fresh air and the fragrance is not "natural." Nonetheless, companies like Skandinavisk do strive to use ingredients that aren't going to kill you or the environment. Believe me, flaxseed wax is far better for all of us than cheap candle wax which is often made from cattle by-product. Or from tropical plants, which of course contributes to tropical deforestation. I read all the product info I can find when I buy a candle, which does require deconstructing marketing gimmickry. I have to say, it's always safer to dig into European suppliers, because they have to comply with far stricter health and environmental standards than we do. And as I'm learning, the Scandinavian countries along with France really are ahead of the pack in their attempts to improve on product sustainability and the health benefit score card. So, this year, my Hygge plan includes a lot of Scandinavian interventions. Which is only natural (!), as Hygge originated in those countries.]

So, breakfast, with a cat. Or two. And Ed. And a candle.

I should note that by the time we sit down to the morning meal, I'd already walked the farmette lands...

... and fed the animals (so complicated in the morning! Five hens eat in the barn. Five cats eat in the sheep shed. One cat eats on the porch. One cat eats in the farmhouse, but she is reluctant to dive in unless her best and only buddy Dance is nearby, who, unfortunately is great at stealing her food. So you have to be clever and work fast until everyone is fed). 

... and I went on a solo bike ride in that window that seemed to be rain-free. It was rain-free! Mostly. (Ed stayed home because on Wednesdays, he does a mega solo ride later on.)

(they are restoring wetlands across the road from us...)

(enter: fall colors)

And then I did my candle purchasing.

With laundry and ballet thrown in for good measure.

Keeping to this kind of schedule may make you wonder how on earth I'm going to ever produce any GWP2 (Great Writing Project 2) pages in the years before me. Especially given my involvement with the grandkids. Sometimes I'm with you on that one! Where am I going to find the necessary hours?

Winter: a writer's best friend is that dreaded cold season. (With a jumpstart in Autumn, but not September Autumn. More like November!) It's not that I am doing nothing right now. When I'm biking (or hiking), I think about the new format with which I'll be working. I think about story lines and character development. And part of me wants to then sit down and get to it, but I know that this is not the time for it. Soon, but not this week, not next week either.

In the afternoon, the two big kids are here once again. There's excitement: tonight is the night of their (future) high school's homecoming parade and they can march in support of it. The kindergartner, who has done this in previous years as a sister-tag-along, is thrilled to be at long last marching as a real honest to goodness school boy. It takes so little to make a five-year-old happy!

(At the farmhouse, they sometimes overlap in their play, but lately, she has gone back to storytelling with the use of her dolls. He's gone back to puzzles, though these, too, can be improv tools. Both kids are not quiet in their solo play!)

In the evening Ed bikes and I listen to the quiet of the house. Dance insists on a thorough, uninterrupted petting session so I give up on trying to jot down first thoughts on the the GWP2. You could say -- darn that cat! She hogs the few free minutes I have left today. Or you could say -- she is adding years to your life so in the long run, it's a win.

On tomorrow's bike ride, I will think how to allocate my time in a way that would include a selfish block of minutes with no distractions. Are you listening, Dance?!

with love...