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| Last light of day. |
Looking back this morning as I read through this journal as I worked on it each day, I note how the season has changed. The color saturated first days of the week have shifted to a more somber scene in the latter days. The glory is going and almost gone.
Monday morning was dreary and rainy. It wasn’t supposed to be. It was Columbus Day, there was no school, and I had plans. But I had to wait for the weather to clear, so I stayed indoors and canned grape juice and made two batches of grape jelly and meditated on the Order of Things. Rainy weather makes me philosophical. I am an orderly person. I like things to be where they are supposed to be and to happen when they are supposed to happen. I was trained that way. As a small child I learned the names of the days of the week and loved how they always came in the same order. The months of the year with their names and orderly progression delighted me. The seasons, seed time and harvest, the same. They never vary. As I grew older, without fully realizing it, I imposed order on the things around me. Looking back now, I can see that from my earliest days until now, I dress myself in a particular order and seldom vary from it. I never really thought about it. That’s just the way I did it and still do it. I make schedules for myself and find comfort in following them. I thrive on order and tidiness. My sock drawer is arranged a certain way. I fold my clothes just so. The books on my shelves are arranged in alphabetical order by author for fiction and by subject for nonfiction. I load the dishwasher in a certain way. I tell myself that I’m not really obsessive about such things, that’s just how I like it. Sometimes things go awry. I look for something to be where I expect to be and it isn’t there and I get testy. Things don’t happen as I expected and I feel irritated or anxious. The older I get the more often things seem to happen to alter the order of things. Disruptions to plans. Misplacement of items. The seasons don’t behave themselves– late frosts, early frosts, snow in October, no snow at Christmas. The whole world seems to be abandoning the order I expect. And my reaction? I used to fume. Now more and more I hear Doris Day singing in my head, “Que sera, sera. Whatever will be will be.” I’ve come to realize that I can’t control most things or people or the weather. I still fuss a bit, but that’s mostly out of habit, not out of any expectation that I can do anything about it. Am I becoming lazy in my need and desire to control things? Have I resigned myself to let chaos take over my world? No, I just do what I can with the little things within the scope of my influence and I leave the rest to do what it will.
All that was running through my head while I was breathing in the heady aroma of steaming grapes and making jelly and watching drizzle out the kitchen window. I love making jelly and jam. I love the steam and the smell of the cooking fruit. I love the sound of the lids as they click and seal. I feel like an alchemist as I transform fruit, pectin, and sugar into smooth and trembling jelly. I have especially happy memories associated with the process. When Stacey and I were first getting acquainted with each other (maybe too soon in our relationship to call it courting – did I ever really court her?), I was with her at her brother’s house. She was taking care of her little nephews. She had a flat of strawberries and asked me if I wanted to help her make jam. I’d never done anything like that before and was amazed as we made those berries into jam. I was thoroughly impressed by her knowledge and skill. I still am even though I’m mostly the one who makes our jelly and jam now. I ran through that sweet reminiscence as I stood stirring that beautiful steaming, purple grape juice. The jelly set and turned out great. It was a pleasant way to spend the morning. Then around 10:30, the sun began to break through and all my plans for the day slipped back into place. Order was restored, if a bit delayed, and the day moved ahead.
My highest priority was to finish digging up the potatoes. While I was working, I noticed a lot of activity in the hazel hedge. Although the nuts are not quite ripe, the jays and squirrels don’t care. They are stripping the bushes clean of nuts. I don’t think there will be any left for us. I worked at digging potatoes for a couple of hours and then I had to take a break. I’m not as young as I used to be. Miriam joined me after my break and we finally finished in time for me to do the evening chores. Later Kurt tilled the potato row that we thought we’d cleaned out. There were dozens of potatoes that we’d missed that got mauled by the tiller. That didn’t faze Kurt. He took all those mutilated spuds, washed them off, and had them for dinner. I’m glad the potatoes are out of the ground at last. We had a good crop.
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| Potatoes curing. |
Kailie and Ian left for home in the afternoon. We sent them off with some home-grown goodies – some jellies and jams, applesauce, tomato soup, peppers from Kurt and Julie. It was fun having them here. They plan to come up for another visit soon.
The rest of the week was busier and left little time for philosophizing. I was in school on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. On those days, in the hours I was home, I worked at cleaning up gardens, mowing up leaves, and painting sign orders.
I was home on Wednesday. The day began in blaze of glory with a beautiful sunrise. The colors in the sky combined with the colors in the leaves were so intense. It was a cold morning. There was frost – there’s frost most mornings now. I took a longer walk and lingered while I watched the colors change as the sun rose. What a great way to start the day. Then I went inside where it was warm and waited for things to warm up a little before heading outside. I painted and did laundry while I waited. When I finally went out, I stayed out the rest of the day working in the ruins of the garden.
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| Sunrise on Wednesday: in the meadow. |
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| Sunrise on Wednesday: the beaver pond. |
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| Sunrise on Wednesday: sumacs by the barn. |
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| Sunrise on Wednesday: headed home again. |
On Thursday we had a storm. I was in school and was startled when it hit. The wind roared and rain pelted the window of the classroom where I sat. When I got home that afternoon I found the yard deep in leaves. The wind brought down a few branches. The big maples were almost bare.
Friday morning when I went down to do the morning chores, there was the peacock in the chicken yard. The strong wind we’d had the day before had opened a gap in his pen in the orchard and he decided to abandon his summer home and move in with the chickens. We’d planned to move him soon anyway. He likes company and was lonely all by himself in the orchard. He grew up with chickens and I think he might think he is one.
Yesterday was a great day. It was blustery, as October days often are. Stacey and I ran some errands in the morning. We noticed as we drove that the rain and wind we had during the week has taken its toll on the fall leaves. The hills are not so bright and are looking a bit bare now. We went into town and bought chicken feed. After that we drove out to the Amish dry goods store and bought some needed items. When we got back, I decided to blow leaves off the front lawn. They were pretty deep. The rain and wind have almost stripped my maples of their leaves. I got out my old trusty leaf blower and my long extension cords and began blowing leaves toward the road. I was lucky because that blustery wind was blowing in the right direction and helped me move the leaves to the roadside where I will burn them on some dry, calm day.
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| Leaves on the front lawn. |
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| Blowing leaves. |
Most of the day was spent working in the barn. It was a Big Project Day – cleaning the chicken coop and getting it ready for winter. It had been several years since we did a thorough cleaning of the coop. Kurt brought down the small tiller and tilled the floor of the coop. Stacey, Hannah, Miriam, and I joined in and together we scooped up the straw and manure and Kurt hauled it all up to the big garden with his tractor and tilled it into the vegetable beds. It will mellow all winter and next year we should have some nice, rich soil for our crops. Miriam cleaned out the nesting boxes. Hannah cleaned the rain gutters. Stacey scrubbed the barn windows. Miriam cleaned the waterers. When we finished all of that, we spread fresh straw on the coop floor, put everything back in place and stepped back to admire our hard work. That’s one big project I can cross off my list. There are still plenty to go. It felt good to think at least that part of my life is ready for the days ahead.
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| Kurt tilling inside the coop. |
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| Cleaning out the coop. |
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| The clean coop. |
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Yesterday evening I got a phone call from my sister Nancy. She has been in North Carolina at my sister Hollie’s house helping take care of our parents. My father’s health has been rapidly deteriorating. He was in the hospital and then moved into a rehab facility. Nancy called to say it was time for us to gather. My father’s end was near. I will be flying out this afternoon. My sister Jaynan and brother Steve are flying out too. We’ve been expecting this for some time now, but I don’t think you can ever be fully prepared for it. I’m sending this now, not knowing how long I will be away or what will happen or when. Prayers for my family would be much appreciated, especially for my mother. This will be very hard for her. Depending on what transpires, it could be a while before I write again.
