Surprise, Surprise!

There ain't much to be said for a November where my plants are still sitting on the front and back porch, acting like it's summertime (except for the caladiums; they did what they always do, which is die in pitiful suffering every first of October). 

I am six- (cough, cough, choke) excuse me! - years old, and I have never, ever left plants out past late October because they'd be killed.

I keep saying we have to get them in, then I listen to the weather report, and know another day or two or three won't hurt.

But there are a few good things.

First, the warm weather has allowed our tomatoes to keep on ripening. We (Husband) planted way too late, and I just knew all those tomatoes on the vine would die.

Not so. We have four or five on the kitchen counter and at least four more on the vines beginning to ripen. This is something else that has never happened in all my six-(cough, cough, choke) my allergies! - years.

And here is the other thing.  A few days ago I was sitting at the computer in the studio, just like I'm doing now. It was a tad bit later in the day, almost dusk. It was very warm. I had the ceiling fan on and the door wide open.

I heard something walking my way through the leaves, snuffling and snorting and grunting. I thought it was our bulldog. She has to check on me at least once while I'm out here; bugging Husband till he brings her.

I glanced sideways at the door and instead of seeing my dog, I saw the large rear end of a deer. Now, I knew it had to be a buck because of the size. I wanted badly to see him, so I slowly got up and paced my steps with the click click of the overhead fan. I reached the door and an eight point deer stared back at me.

Lord, he was beautiful, and big. His back would have reached my waist, and I'm five ft. eight inches tall. 

We stared at each other for maybe four seconds and then he lifted that white tail  and bounded off into the woods. I hollered after him, "You are so handsome!"

I let him live, he let me live. It's all good.

Still, you know? I'd rather get a little cold weather going - fire in the fireplace, fleece, flannel, wool, quilts.

Ain't it 'bout time, Mother Nature?

Something's Fishy - I Smell a Rat

As you know, we haven't had heat in our downstairs since Saturday. It was 23 degrees this morning. 

Chilling news.

We took the little electric heater from the upstairs bathroom down and made do yesterday.

But this morning was a different story. When I hadn't heard from the service people by 9:05 a.m. I called them. I was on hold for an awfully long time, but finally someone came on and said they'd be here this afternoon.

So we set about building a nice fire, which began to warm the living room (a little bit, it had to warm the firebox first) and put the electric heater on the other end of the room. We got up to a brisk 61 degrees in the living room, but it felt  much colder. The cold seemed to be coming off the walls and floor in waves.

Not more than half an hour later, the office called back and said they'd had a cancellation and would be here in a few minutes.

The fellow arrived about a half hour later, turned on the heat pump and a foul, burning smell filled the house. He went down stairs. Banging and thumping could be heard through the floors.

Eventually he came a'knocking at the door. "I found yore problem. But I don't know if ye want to see it er not."

"Is it a rat?" I asked. I had told Husband when the whole thing began it smelled like burnt meat. And I don't care how old the "little boy" is, I knew that gleam in his eye. He was about to show the girl something to squeal about. (no matter how old the girl is!)

The man grinned at me, and brought forth a very black, charred mouse corpse, it's tail suspended between the grip of a pair of pliers.

Now, I don't know why a mouse would decide to croak right on a heat strip of our heat pump, but he surely did.

The service tech had us back in business in no time, though the smell took a little while to go away.

We decided to keep the fireplace fire, the first of the winter.

I look forward to more fires, but I hope they are under more pleasant circumstances with less drama.

Speaking of drama, there was  more of that later on, but we'll chat about that next time, 'k?

Snow Day

Well, the only thing on anybody's mind today (here) is the snow. In the South, it was a peculiar sight, as the leaves are in their full glory.

At my house, they got rained on, frozen, and snowed on. It was quite pretty this morning, All dazzling color topped in pristine white. The wind has blown off the snow and they are making a big noise with their frozen selves, whipping around furiously.

It's very cold, the wind chill is supposed to make it feel like it is in the low teens.

So, we have the first fire of the season, and of course, I am loving it.

I admit, two of the things that make me feel like a child are snow and fire in a fireplace.

The other is seeing Santa.

I'm making vegetable soup and cornbread for dinner this afternoon. And of course, sweet iced tea.

This could turn out to be a perfect day.

After all, I get to sleep an extra hour tonight before getting up for church, too.

Eeny Meeny Chili Beanie, Happy Happy Halloweeny

Thinking back on my own childhood Halloween trick or treat excursions, I am amazed that I don't remember one single costume I wore.

It seems they were always purchased at the dime store, and had scratchy outfits to match the sweaty, plastic masks.

Generally, I had to wear a coat over the mess, anyway.

In early years, I was given a big brown paper sack to fill up. It never entered my mind to decorate it up.

Later, either as my parents became more prosperous or somebody had a great idea, I had a plastic pumpkin or bright orange bucket to hold out.

But I do remember many of Daughter's costumes: Mini Mouse, a cat, a clown, a Pink Power Ranger. And then came the years of a princess, a princess and of course, another princess. This year she was Mario from the video game.

I've seen a snowy Halloween or two, and tonight they are saying we are going to have another one. Up to an inch or so.

We'll see.

If so, I can't wait to use the fireplace for the first time this season.

Anyway, take a moment to think back on the magical, exciting times you might have had. A time when it was an innocent thing to trick or treat and not fraught with evil or demons or fear of razor blades in your Red Delicious.

Keep warm,  ya'll.

When it is Hard to Let Go

Husband says he thinks I'm from a different planet. Not the  male/female thing, just that I'm, well, weird.

One of the things I am weird about is the dread I feel when I think about seasons changing.

Right now I am overly fond of the well worn quilt that graces my bed. It is dark in its colors, deep ruby and navy. It serves us well all winter, looking warm and cozy and ready to keep you snug throughout the cold night. Oh! And how it feels when I slip beneath it to be wrapped in the flannel sheets underneath the quilt. Between the two is a comforter that my grandmother crocheted out of heavy wool.

I love having a fire in the fireplace, or at least the idea that I can have one anytime I want to.

I love the throws I have throughout the house, ready for use.

I want just one more snow.

Then a day like today comes along. Stepping outside I was overcome with joy. Birds calling to one another, blooms bursting forth as though they couldn't stand it one more minute. I can actually feel the heat of the sun.

And my mind turns to getting out the summer comforter, its pale and flowered presence awaiting. I think of opening windows to let a warm breeze in before it gets too hot. I think of turning on ceiling fans, and visiting greenhouses for plants - flowers and food alike.

I love watching my porches turn from dull and barren to full of color - pots of flowers and plants, cushions in the wicker, and birds nesting behind things on the shelf.

Spring will turn into summer and the windows will close, the air conditioning turned on, and when dog days show up, I ain't so misty about them. I just praise the good Lord for the cool air he allows in my home and cars.

Do I hear an amen?

It's the only time of year I truly dislike the weather in Georgia.

But that's just for a few months. You  open your door one morning to see a sudden pink in the dogwood leaves, that first hint of fall. I feel anticipation returning, anxious for the splendid job God does every autumn.

I may dread the change, but once it occurs I embrace it: whether it's to shed winter, say good-bye to spring, or say hello to fall.

Maybe I'm  not so weird after all.