News from the Hood - Recap and Onward

I pulled down the storm windows in the house last week (or most of them) and the doors go up next. Those cool-crisp fall days have finally arrived in my part of Michigan, bringing with them a patchwork of sunny days, crunchy leaves, gentle rain, dark clouds that disappear overnight to bring the sun.

My garden warrior, Mark, came the other day to put my gardens to bed. I can't bear to bring in or cut back the potted flowers, plants and herbs in front of the house, but the rest is in jolly good shape and ready to weather the winter. And it looks so tidy -- as though the garden got a long overdue and sorely needed haircut!

The birds have been stuffing themselves at the feeder, much to Lizzie's delight. Although, given that the feeder is just outside the window by her own bowl, I hear repeated bellowing for more food. No, I am not trying to starve my cat but she's not unlike her person with an open bag, box or carton of something deliciously wicked. Like Peppermint Stick ice cream. Oh, if only she had thumbs.

I have spent much of my time this fall writing a book about my family history. That sounds pretentious, doesn't it? I called it a narrative for a long time, but now I think it's passed the word count for narrative, whatever that may be. I have become relatively adept at sorting through city directories, census documents, passenger lists and more. Our university has a genealogy group and once I get back in good working order, I plan to attend and who knows what all I'll discover.

It's been a fascinating journey, to be sure. I have traced my mother's family back to the 1500s in Switzerland and Germany and in the course of that research learned about religious persecution, insanity, candy making and farming in the 1800s and so much more. I also learned that Stephen Colbert is my seventh cousin so now when I watch, I wave at the telly!

Placing a wreath at my great grandmother's grave.

Last week my friend Barb and I went to find the property that was my great grandfather's and where my own grandpa was born. (If that's your cuppa, you can read about it HERE on my other blog, The Leatherman Tree -- which, for the most part, is mostly interesting only to my family!)

At the creek by the property where my grandfather was born.

It was one of those perfect autumn days, warm but not hot, perfect for sitting under a tree at the cemetery and enjoying an apple and a break in our quest and it felt so right to stop at this final resting spot for my great grandmother, her father and possibly others in unmarked graves.

I'm also getting ready for my upcoming sale and if you are in the mid-Michigan area and would like more info, please leave that in a comment. It's Nov. 2-3-4 and we'll have eight artists with a variety of styles of art, from my watercolors, photography and cards to holiday things to jewelry, calendars, soaps, cat toys and pens!  Once that's over, I will be adding things to the Gypsy Caravan if anyone is interested.

                      

We'll have great treats and I made Jann Olson's wonderful frosted ginger cookies to freeze and take with me next week. There is a distinct possibility that I will have to remake these! They're that good!

The light has changed here as I know it has in so many places and I find it dark earlier with each passing day. That's when I settle in with a good book or two. My guiding word of 2017 was hygge (the other was action) and I've been hyggeling a great deal these evenings. Most recently I've enjoyed the beautiful "Broken for You" and "As Always, Julia," a compilation of letters between Julia Child and her friend and pen pal Avis DeVoto, who played a key role in the selling of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" to a publisher. Then it was on to the second in the Imogen Quy mystery series by Jill Paton Walsh (thanks for the recommendation, Mae!) and now I'm very hygge with blogger Becca Rowan's "Life Goes On." Do you know Becca's blog? Gorgeous writing. This book is a little gem.

Thanks for your very kind comments on the radiation in my recent post. I'm basically and return from the "radiation vacation," but there's still more than a bit of a mess on the lip. I sent a selfie to a couple of friends and family and believe me, I won't share it here. But I am so grateful that I'm nearly through and all will be well.

I will be so glad when all of this is over. And by this, I mean the radiation, the biopsy and the art sale. I had lunch with a friend and our conversation centered in part on the high level of stress we are feeling and seeing in our friends, our country, our world. Yes, I think about nuclear annihilation every day and plan to live as well as I can each and every day and hope that one day we'll wake up from a bad dream.

But right now, it's the end of a lovely day. The light is changing and within an hour, the sun will be gone until tomorrow. Life is good. Very good.