And Now It's November

Sunset at the end of October.

October is over. Despite its thirty-one days, it seemed like a very short month. Now November is here. After the glories of October, November seems rather drab. There is still beauty to be found, but it isn’t as obvious. The trees are mostly bare. The fields are brown. There are no flowers. The garden is empty.

Milkweed.

Winterberries along the Genesee.

The week started off on a sad note. Rachel, Tabor, and Hazel left on Monday. Sarah and Tosh left on Tuesday. The party atmosphere died down a bit. Miriam is still here and hopefully will be here for a long time. Daniel is here for the time being. Hannah is here on the weekends. That’s nice. We like being together.

The weather during the last week of October was fickle. On Tuesday the high temperature was almost at 80° and by Saturday night we had snow on the ground. I’ve dug out my winter clothes. I brought out my flannel-lined jeans and my warm woolly socks. No more short sleeves until next spring.

We got a lot of work done last week. On Tuesday while it was still warm, Miriam, Hannah, and I dug up the dahlias and gladiolus to store for the winter. I have a list of big jobs of things to do to get us ready for winter. At the top of the list was cleaning the chicken coop. We were lucky that Kurt and Julie had four missionaries visiting for two days. They came down from the Seneca Lake Camp to do some service for us. They spent several hours on Friday with Daniel, Miriam, and Kurt (I was in school) down at the barn shoveling out the chicken coop and dumping the manure in one of the vegetable gardens. They all did a great job. I was glad to check that item off my list.

Our missionary work crew.

Our tom turkey, Thomas.

There are still some big jobs on the list and I’m hoping Daniel and Miriam will help us get them done this week. At the top of the list now is getting the rain gutters cleaned out before the big snows come and the icicles start to form. The gutters are full of soggy leaves. Daniel thinks he can go up on the high roof with some good rope to anchor him. We’ll see.

Two signs of the changing seasons took place here last week. I took down the hammock and stored it away for the winter. And we began filling the bird feeders again. We didn’t fill them all summer because we didn’t want to attract bears, but it’s cold now and the birds were coming to the empty feeders and looking disappointed to find them empty. As soon as the feeders were full there were chickadees, jays, and juncos there.

I’m in the middle of reading a great book. To get me in the mood for Thanksgiving, I’m reading Saints and Strangers by George F. Willison. It’s a well-written and very detailed account of the Pilgrims and founding of the New England colonies. I find it especially interesting because many of my ancestors. Two of them, Stephen Hopkins and Richard Warren, were Mayflower passengers. The account of the Pilgrims has become myth more than accurate history for most Americans. We think of them as idealized, Thanksgiving decorations more than real people. Pious people in quaint costumes eating turkey and pumpkin pie. The reality is very different and much more interesting. It’s fascinating to read the facts, the actual accounts, to see what they thought and what they were really trying to do when they came to America. They were a diverse group and there were quite a few scoundrels in the mix.

When we got up this morning, the world was white with snow. It wasn’t deep, less than an inch, and it has mostly melted away now. Today is Fast Sunday and we are all hungry. All the way home from church all we talked about was what we’re going to have for lunch. By special request from Daniel, we’re having oatmeal burgers and home fries. Preparations are already underway and it smells wonderful. On the first Sunday of the month I always have interviews with my children. For the last few months there was just Josiah. Today I have four children here to talk with. That makes me happy. Tonight the Shilligs are coming to our house for the Sabbath Soiree. And then there is the week waiting before us.

The front yard this morning.

The garden this morning.