In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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One Thursday

[This was supposed to be posted on Thursday, but the pictures wouldn't upload and it got too late, so the words are from yesterday.]
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"Old Father Time checked so there'd be no doubt
Called down the north wind to come on out
Then cupped his hands so proudly to shout
La-di-dah, la-di-dah, 'tis autumn"

It seems we are having what Mona refers to as the 'equinoctial storm' in Then There Were Five, "It's bound to last three days at least. . . it comes at the times of year when days and nights are the same length. Now in September, and then again in March." At least this one has lasted two days and a night: steady rain with only momentary let-ups, and entire hours of pounding sheets causing the front yard to turn into a lake. The yard and deck are strewn with green and yellow leaves, torn from their moorings too early.
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~The out-of-doors have just lit up with an almost unearthly light. It is hard to believe it is only
the sun shafting through an overcast sky, turning it all grey-green.~
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The rain patters and streams and dribbles and pools out in the recesses of the woods and back again. Its sound reaches farther than my hearing goes and plays in forgotten corners of nature.
I love to stand with my nose to the eye of wind like this, like a weather-vane, and feel it flow through me. Deep into my lungs and veins and mind. I'm sitting in front of a screened door instead, so I don't get soaked, but the wind reaches in and flutters my skirt and hair and refreshes my spirit. How good God is to us!
The Autumnal Equinox happily arrived at midnight last, making this day officially the first day of autumn, my favorite season of the year, all golden and russet. It has been a lamp-lit, celebratory day, with the cry of killdeers at odd hours, and the rhapsodic aroma of the first molasses cookies "of the year", which is a long time tradition here. Mrs. Miniver thinks of autumn as the beginning of the year, as Mother quoted here. And in many ways I do too.
We enjoyed "The Great Pumpkin Waltz" by Vince Guaraldi, and some other classical beauties. We did some math, and read about Charlamagne, and baked some bread.
Here are some pictures from our day. . . a great many actually . . . . May your autumn be strewn with merry leaves and laughter.
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sourdough pancakes and early lamplight








the view from my window with my twinkle lights reflected.






















::~ morning project: a new tissue paper star.








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vegetable-beef-soup and iced tea

















<--the lake that is our yard. . .
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And this is me, with my tea, and the pumpkin colored earrings that helped make it all feel fallish and delightful.


















Molasses Cookies!































And they were quite good, let me tell you.
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Below is our jar of refrigerator dill pickles from garden cucumbers. Delicious.
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1 comment:

Kat said...

Oh, man...this makes me so happy!!!
If my house did not look like tornado alley this morning I would insist upon jumping in my van with the babies still in their jammies and spending the rest of this rainy day at "Mimi'th houth". Greta wanted to click to enlarge each picture.
Your words are so beautiful, Olivia. Keep writing. They bring such joy.
I love every detail of your day. Your new morning teacup is so beautiful! And I love the color scheme of your new window star. The bread, the baking, the pumpkin & pitcher, my most beeyewtifulest sister. Love the 3-of-the-most-fav guys in the picture with the pickles.
Anyway, thank you!