It's time to start breathing again

Turning the corner

The last of the casualties of spring are fading into the lawn. I ate my first violet and heard my first cricket today. The bees are swarming the holly grape flowers. I guess spring is here.

I got lost

I didn't really go anywhere. In the last few months I found myself wandering further and further down too many of the wrong metaphorical roads. But I'm stubborn. And I can be easily convinced  that everything is fine. I don't like to admit that I've made a mistake, that I really should stop and turn back. I don't like to ask for help.

I'm finding my way back now. It's been painful at times. But I'm starting to sort things out, with help. I'm going to make some plans, find some new roads and see if I can't actually get to where I want to be. I'll even figure out where that is before I leave the house (for the first time).

*****

On a sort of unrelated note, we lost another good one today. I found this quote online and, as usual, it was perfect.

"It's vital to remember who you really are. It's very important. It isn't a good idea to rely on other people or things to do it for you, you see. They always get it wrong."

- Terry Pratchett

Sourcery

1988

Discworld will miss you, and so will this one.

Nice try, winter.

Thirteen below, eh? Well, I've got cake. And chard enchiladas. And soups. And nectarine pop tarts. So there.

Our stained glass season

 It all started innocently enough. The leaves on a few over-achieving ash trees turned yellow one afternoon.

The evening commute was, on some streets, a true golden hour.

After a while, the maples followed suit. I revised my morning ride to check out my favorites.

 But then everybody wanted in on the fashion show.

From the smallest sumacs...

...to the vine most of us try to avoid (that's poison ivy, if you're wondering).

Then things got a bit crazy. They were glowing.

 Our office Skittle tree.

The hillsides were on fire, metaphorically.

 If you looked back towards town, you'd find little bursts of color between the homes.


There were a few vestiges of summer, but most had already moved on.

Not everyone was as interested in the seasonal displays of brilliant foliage.

Some just wanted a snack.

I really enjoyed this extended autumn and just wanted all the colors to stay, but change is inevitable, and not unwelcome. In the past twenty-four hours, we've gone from 72 degrees to 6, and all that color is now a memory. Bring on the snow. Our trees are now resting up for next year's show.

An experiment

I decided to stay home this Halloween to hand out candy and scary books. Yup, books. An idea that would either leave me "the weird lady at the end of the street" or turn me into "the weird, cool lady at the end of the street."

Like many crazy good ideas, All Hallows Read came from the mind of Neil Gaiman, and I'd been collecting books from thrift stores since I'd heard about it last November. I was pretty nervous about how kids might react and had plenty of candy on hand to go with the books, just to reassure everyone that this was completely normal.

When the doorbell sounded for the first time on Friday night, I opened the door wide and greeted the first batch of trick or treaters, doled out the candy and then pointed to the table just inside that was covered with books. I told them to take whichever one they'd like, only mentioning the approximate grade level each pile was geared towards. I held my breath as they sorted through the selection. "Really?" "For free?" and "Any book??" were some of the first comments I got. The first three books found their new owners.

"Hmmm, this just might work," I mused. And then, from the top of my stairs, one boy yelled down to his friends, "Hey, guys! At this house, you get a book and candy! Come up here!" I nearly wept with joy.

And so it went for the next three hours. Little kids, with help from their parents, picked out their books based on the covers, middle school kids asked for recommendations, a few were disappointed that I didn't have a particular book (note to self, more Goosebumps for next year) and a super cool bunch of high schoolers came in to talk about collecting books and comics. The young man dressed as Rorschach said, "I'll take all the Poe you've got." And he did.

My favorite trick or treater might have been the pre-teen girl who snatched up the Cinderella Skeleton picture book and asked, "Do you mind if I take this one? It was my favorite book when I was little."

I have readers in my neighborhood and maybe I helped encourage a few more this week. Forty-two out of fifty-four books were given out, along with all but seven pieces of candy. After the last kids had headed back down the stairs and the jack-o-lanterns had been brought inside, I threw on my Morrigan costume and headed downtown with some friends to people-watch. All in all, it was an excellent night. I'll start collecting next year's books soon. Need some Bradbury, maybe a little Pratchett, and, of course, I'll keep my eye out for Coraline, another Graveyard Book and The Wolves in the Walls. Thanks for making me cool, Neil!

I can stop whenever I want...

So, apparently the first forty pounds wasn't enough. Or, rather, I did not use the first forty pounds fast enough. The worms appreciated the donation. And so I brought home more.

I am now going to follow a strict schedule of pie/galette/hand-pie/butter/juice production until every one of these suckers is gone. Right after I snag a few green apples (you know, for balance), from this tree I just heard about...

And for anyone who feels a desire to scour their local environs for snacks, check out the Fallen Fruit site, built by some guys in my town. Most of my favorite trees haven't even made it to the map!

(Also, for anyone keeping track, I'm now going to move backwards in blog time till I meet up with wherever I left off. I've found I'm not the only one who's run into this backlog lately, but I feel it's OK to be a few months behind in recording life, if I'm still right where I should be in living it.)