What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and the work flow. ~ Martin Luther

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The End of October

 
Our high-tech children on their new-to-them typewriter, listening to Dolly Parton or Bach or Scottish pipes on the new-to-them tape recorder. 

 




 

 

Penny had an interesting weekend.  You'll hear about that tomorrow.  It's befitting for a post all its own.



Mattie-made floor.




This bugger is one of the same that stung Corynn a few weeks ago picking apples- a fruit wasp.  For comparison, an ordinary bee sits on top of the lid. 

 

 





 October ending is spent bringing in wood and the last remaining garden things and apples to keep us warm and filled this winter.  It has been such a wonderful apple year; even with our three unhealthy trees we have had ample apples to sauce and dry and bake with and spice in apple butter.  Made all the more wonderful when we were unable to pick even a single apple the year before.  I am very thankful that there were a few apple trees here when we got here, especially since my plans for adding fruit trees this year never came to fruition.  Fruition, get it?

We've added layers of quilts to the beds and shivered as we scrambled in for quite some time and I have warmed the kitchen up by baking and canning when the house is cold, but we haven't started our woodstove yet this year.  Tomorrow morning, I think, we will start our first fire of the season.  Over the weekend Matt cleared some junk wood from around the place and burned it and I stood watching it blaze, feeling its heat and smelling that wonderful woody, smoky smell.  I breathed it in and wondered at how welcome that scent was to my nose, how I had missed it without realizing I had.   I gladly became a human rotisserie as I inched forward and let the fire heat me through and then rotated until my sides felt like they would burn and then my back and then my other side.  Over and over, there is nothing like the intense heat of a fire to warm your bones.

I realize that this will be the last of my homegrown flower bouquets and so I fill every nook with every remaining half-living petal that I can muster.  I will miss my flowers.  They had a good run.  A beautiful run.  The bees are lazy and lethargic, clinging on to petals- seemingly drunk on pollen.  I impressed the children when I picked one up with my fingers without it stinging me.  It just sleepily wondered at why it was moving but didn't care enough to fly.  Or sting.

The children are constantly running around with bare feet and wearing short sleeve shirts with no coats, even when it is downright cold outside, because that is what they have done all summer and old habits die hard.  I chase after each one with a hat and sweater many times a day and try to keep socks on their almost blue toesies before they take them off again, how odd they feel on their skin.

Matt, he is up to his usual mischief.  Once he re-sided the barn, well, then he had to go and cut a few holes back in it to make some doors.  And he used all the recently sawed lumber to rebuild the hay mow floor in the barn.  Finally, a place to store hay!  That, plus brush-hogging, re-siding the chicken coop, sorting logs, bringing in wood- he is has been such a hard worker.

Yes.  We are like squirrels, hurriedly running from here to there getting those last minute things done before we hole away for the winter.   I can't say I am looking forward to winter~ affection does not come easily to a season that freezes my bones and forces me to haul frozen water to frozen animals in frozen temperatures.  But I can say we've had a good run, Autumn and I. 

10 comments:

Julian said...

beautiful corners, beautiful writing, beautiful life. Much to be thankful for! Christina

Full of Grace said...

Holy Cow, that wasp was HORRIBLE, no wonder she hurt so much! Looking forward to hearing about Penny :) And Tell Matt Congrats on his hard work, it looks AWESOME!!! :)

ulli said...

Love reading your beautiful words about your simple, beautiful, honest life. You should write a children's book about life at Hopestead. Thank you for blessing me.

Stacey said...

I love your old barn! And I'm once again jealous of your chilly temps and lovely fall things while we still run barefoot and sweat in Texas!

Rebecca said...

Really enjoyed this post. It's 80 here in wine country, yet I want it to be like where you are.

Anna Yager said...

This post reminds me so much of our old home in the redwood forest in northern California. That's where our son Matt and family still live (in the house my husband built), and their only heat is wood heat as well. I love a house heated with wood; there's something so fundamental about it, and in tune with the seasons. Ah well, at least here in Mexico I have a wood cookstove! And those apples - they're SO much more gorgeous than anything you can find in the store, and I'm sure tastier too!

Quinn said...

Beauty, beauty, and more beauty.
I particularly enjoy the children in the hay loft. And that your home is as my sister would call it "puking flowers" (I don't know. Except I can't get the phrase out of my head now that it's in there. And that I want a home that pukes flowers too.)

Rebecca said...

Julian- it is that!

Elizabeth- I don't know if you should be! ;-)

Ulli- being an author is one of my long-time dreams. Probably will never happen but I can't stop from dreaming it!

Stacey and Rebecca- that is just cruel to mention sweat on a frigid day like today! Mean,mean,mean.:-)

Anna-your story sounds so beautiful. I don't know what made you leave your redwood forest home, but what a blessing to have your children (and grands) enjoying the fruits of your labor there.

Quinn- the last of the pukage for a while. Sadly. ;-) (Never thought I would say THAT!)

Anna Yager said...

I thought i had your email address but no such luck, so I'm responding here. The answer to what made us leave the redwood forest is GOD...a long and fascinating journey He has taken us on too, with many turns in the road, and here we are now in Mexico. However, a part of our hearts will always be in the forest, and I SO enjoy reading about you and Matt - your lives remind me so much of the most precious parts of our lives. If it's no problem, maybe you could email me at bajamanna (at) gmail...

Rebecca said...

Anna-I certainly will!