Sunday

Wisconsinites are bracing for a week of interesting weather. I say interesting because it isn't going to be typical November fare. Sunny and mild. Stuff we normally see in late September. Stuff that pushes you outside with a threat: embrace it now, because next week you will have wished you did.

So we embrace it. 

Early morning walk -- I pause to admire the crabs. The cats meow, the chickens squawk, but I ignore them. I do a very leisurely walk to the barn.

(a redhead and a blonde!)

Breakfast? Delightfully yummy. I'm trying to rush through opened jars of jam so that by the time winter strikes, I can open the ones we bought yesterday at the market.

And now for our outdoor work: Ed is dissatisfied with the way the lights are hanging on the porch (he can be fussy that way!) and so he rehangs them. He tells me -- I'd put up the path lights, but some vermin chewed up the extension chord. Most people would toss that chord and put in a new one. Not so Ed. He sets out to repair the gnawed wires. 

And then we get on our bikes and head out to McFarland. Over the river and through the woods...

We actually have a destination in mind -- the McFarland House Cafe. It's just the right amount of biking -- 37 minutes each way. Well, 50 if you take a wrong turn! And it's a place that's new for us. A rare bird in a very familiar landscape.

(timed release...)

(the ride back is against the wind -- a real gusty wind that got these kite surfers excited on Lake Waubesa!)

I'd say that's a goodly amount of outdoor movement! 

In the evening the young family is here for dinner. And what do you know -- the wires are fixed, the pathway lights are up and running!

(inside, the cheese board is being raided!)

The mood is, despite the warm up, November-ish. So many of us are thinking now about turkey dinners and holiday preparations. 

(engaged in the business of picking out a holiday gift...)

Call these the distractions -- ones that move us forward. Important, because frankly, there's so much going on in this world right now, that not one of us, not even those who are predisposed toward optimism, can sail forth with total freedom from disquiet. So we lose ourselves for a few weeks in the world of gingerbread and colorful porch lights and lighted menorahs and almond croissants. (Wait, almond croissants??) And family dinners. And in these, we find peace. And love.