I worked on November’s spread in my planner on Samhain. And what did November bring?
November 1st brought snow across the valley, and the beauty of “stick season” has settled in. And on the morning of November 4th, when I read Heather Cox Richardson’s column I felt a relief so huge that I may have wept a bit. She wrote, “But in fact, today voters resoundingly rejected Trump and Trumpism, and tomorrow politics will be a whole different game.” As I digested the news, I again got weepy when I read her column on November 5th, quoting Zohar Mamdani’s victory speech.
There is still so much ahead, plenty of challenges and setbacks and struggle. But wasn’t it lovely, even for just a few days, to sit with such good news for a change?
I’ve been to Massachusetts and back since I last wrote, visiting with cousins who I’d not seen in ages, one from Sweden and one from New Mexico. We had a lovely, nostalgic ramble (we walked there together as kids and teens and young adults) at World’s End, open space reaching out into Hingham Harbor, south of Boston. And then there was the pizza party where almost all the cousins gathered in my beloved Aunt Margretta’s living room and the mayhem of old stories and laughter mingled with memories of those gone on ahead of us. The next day I did some shopping I don’t have access to in rural Vermont and I got in a visit with my Mumsie before heading home. Anytime I drive north along I-93 and I-89 I can feel myself relaxing my grip on the steering wheel and I know “there’s no place like home”.
The road crew has put in the snowplow markers, and we’ve taken down the window screens. We washed the windows with a new concoction I found in simply living well, by Julia Watkins. I’ve been trying to use more homemade cleaning supplies to help me stay away from commercial products. Julia’s recipe includes cornstarch of all things, and it worked! No streaks! The birdfeeders are up, the lawn furniture is tucked in the shed and Batman put the snowplow on the tractor.
We woke to a dusting here this morning and so Mother Nature has reminded us that the seasons are indeed turning, one into another.
Our Meyer lemon had a fabulous summer out on the deck and is now loaded with blossoms which we hope will transform into lemons. But, alas, this dwarf tree can be fickle, so we cross our fingers that all goes well this winter. We brought our rosemary in from the garden and hope it will be OK too. Flower bulbs are potted up and tucked into the root cellar to bring up to force on the window sills again this winter.
I finished listening to Still Life, read by the author, Sarah Winman. What a delightful story! Set in both England and Tuscany, this historical fiction spanns decades and I grew to love the characters as they moved in and out of one another’s lives. I give this one two thumbs up. Now I’m rereading Twyla Tharp’s Keep it Moving: Lessons for the Rest of Your Life. It’s just right for my winter intentions.
I sent Freya’s quilt out to a longarm quilter and now I’m sewing on the binding. This is such a meditative part of the making of a quilt. Sometimes I feel like this can be the most intentional part of making a quilt…stitching love by hand, into each side of the quilt, gathering all the designing, cutting and sewing into the boundaries of fabric alchemy.
From Patchwork a sewist‘s diary, by Maddie Ballard, “I lower the needle and the world recedes.” (Page 12) I continue to find sanctuary in my studio and hope you have space in your lives to find quiet and peace.
I’ve loved reading the quotes some of you have been leaving in the comments on my last few posts. Thank you so much for sharing them. Invite you toad more whenever you are inspired!
A week later, I’m still tussling with the time change, feeling my feet drag in the late afternoon and early evening. The cats remind me often that their stomachs have not adjusted either. I will sign off now, to feed them their supper.
Dearest readers, let us stay strong. And remember, “ Joy doesn’t cancel out the heavy things-but gives you little pockets of strength to carry on. Let it in. Whenever and wherever you can” -Stacie Swift.