The Southern Exposure Celebration Continues

When last we left our intrepid band of six, we were outdoors at Southern Exposure. It was time to step inside the buildings, savor the fall decor and have a distanced dinner!

Before we went to eat, though, Rick and I checked out some of the other buildings. The fountain outside the milking parlor was decked in autumn splendor.

And I noted that inside the Corn Crib, there were some beautiful vignettes. I was taken by how this letter was displayed, framed with a feather. 

And I liked this arrangement too, backlit in the late afternoon light.

 

A workshop was taking place that evening (we were not attending that much to the relief of Rick!) and we peeked into the workshop tent to see the project. Wouldn't it be fun to bring one of those home?

After checking things out we knew it was time to meet up for dinner.

We were going to be dining in the Hog House.

Back in the 1800s, this charming building was home to the farm's hogs.

The walkway includes a bridge over a koi-filled pond and hanging on the fence were still-bright pansies in metal pots.

Inside a faux fire awaited us!

 This was clearly no pig sty anymore! 

If I put a hat on a vase in my house, it would look very wrong. Here it looks so right!

Beautiful arrangements were placed on lovely antique furniture. It seemed as though you could find something seasonal no matter where you looked, whether it was eye-level...

... or looking up!

And if you weren't satisfied with what was inside, looking outside was just as good!

And Chef Elsie's Peruvian chicken (my special request) was delicious. So was the salad with its moon grapes and cheddar, variegated carrots and potatoes. The lemony cake for dessert (and an abundance of wine) didn't hurt either!

We sat as couples at separate tables, well spaced apart. Fans above circulated the air in the large room. 

And there were plenty of smiles.

Especially mine.

It was so good to be with friends, inside, at a lovely place and feeling relatively normal. A place of beauty...

....of nature...

...of spirit.

And one other thing -- Jan, Kate and I all took home a completed autumn lantern, made for us by Micah, who is Southern Exposure's craft guru! It looks beautiful on my table and is just the right size!

So, here's to a paid off mortgage, good friends and being in a favorite spot of beauty.

Now that the house is paid up, I think I'd better do a little tidying!

Celebrating at Southern Exposure!

It's no secret that my "happy place" is an herb farm near Battle Creek, Michigan called Southern Exposure. With friends, I will attend workshops there, making beautiful arrangements, wreaths and other home decor projects.

Jan, Kate and I had signed up for several of the spring workshops but, of course, those were canceled due to Covid-19. We were all missing our times at the farm, wandering the gardens and enjoying the lovely dinners we are served.

Well, when I finally paid off my house mortgage, a celebration was called for. I wanted to treat my friends to a lovely dinner but we are all high risk in one or more ways so a restaurant was out of the question.

 

And then I thought of Southern Exposure. I had hoped we could arrange a lovely dinner in one of their smaller buildings for six of us, well distanced. .

 

I knew that before we went in for dinner, the six of us could walk around the gardens, keeping good space outside.

And it worked! Jennifer, Southern Exposure's new owner, was more than accommodating. The plans were made!

Rick and I arrived at the farm after driving down a country road that was in truth a tunnel of trees at their golden splendor. The entry into the farm was equally beautiful. Soon the others arrived, too. This was especially fun for us because none of our menfolk had been to this spot we raved about with every visit. Even though the gardens were nearing their end, there was still plenty of color and it was beautifully tended, as always.

They were impressed!

We wandered around a good deal before dinner, noticing such things as still-magnificent hydrangeas...

...the charming vintage auto...

...flower-decked birdbaths...

...and the Southern Exposure chickens!

The apple and pear trees were still producing abundant fruit.

There was a lot of photography going on...

...and a lot of "oohing" and "ahhing..."

And more than a bit of gratitude for this time together.

There was more Southern Exposure fun in store when went inside for dinner.... 

Being with friends. It was so good.

Postcards from the Lake: Time to Say Goodbye

All good things come to an end, and so, too, has my time at the lake. 

During these postcards from the lake this month, we've seen beautiful color.

A charming garden center, getting ready to ease into a new season.

I was surprised to see intrepid water boarders on my last walk.

And kayaks, as a family pulled in after a last paddle.

My favorite walking road turned, almost before my eyes, from green to gold.

Berries burst, filled with sunshine.

Fungi nestled around trees, sometimes looking like something else.

Even the swamp looked pretty.

Skies were a glorious blue (when they weren't cloudy and bringing rain).

You just had to stop and take a deep breath and take it all in.

My cousin's cottage -- what I call our ancestral home, as it was where my mom and her sisters spent their summers, and so did I till we bought our own place -- was nestled in its own haven of color.

Sometimes it was so quiet on my walk, all I could hear were my footsteps, rare birdsong, and the wind rustling through the trees.

Leaves fluttered gracefully to the ground, with some getting stuck in the branches of a tree. Surely a good wind will blow this one away, too.

It was a summer of ducks. I saw a sole merganser on my last day. Since I left, Rick has seen many coming daily to the beach.

There were chores...

...and wonderful dinners.

The early darkness meant that our dinners turned to candlelight occasions.

 I will miss these splashes of color, dinners on the porch (with or without candlelight), my Duckles and Quackles and the Mergansers. I will miss walks along my path, watching the lake change color with each and every sunset and that feeling of sublime safety I had as I isolated without feeling isolated.

 But it's time to say goodbye. 

I'll miss you, Cottage. I'll miss you summer and fall.

Home. It's a good place to be. But it isn't quite the same.