Tuesday, November 09, 2010
The Days Plans
The crows are calling to one another from tree to tree. The morning sun is shinning golden, through the trees that are just now changing color here. The trees here become yellow and brown, no reds or oranges. Makes me long for the fall colors I grew up with in New England. There are clothes yet to be hung on the line, dishes in the sink waiting for me to deal with them.
Sewing on the dinning room table, little girl aprons and the last of my postage stamp quilt to be pieced. A quick breakfast of a biscuit from last nights supper. Warmed with butter on it. Coffee is brewing. I smile thinking about how fresh the biscuits stay, wrapped in a linen tea towel in a salt glazed bowl. No fancy foil or plastic wrap needed, just a clean cloth.
I plan my day in my mind as I wait for my coffee. Some sewing, a bit more knitting on the front of Mei-Lings sweater to finish it. Trimming branches off the cedar trees along the back fence line. Cutting some kindling and hoeing a row or two in the garden. Then lunch. I love being home all day. It would suit me perfectly to go out once a week and be home all the rest of the time. Even when I was a child, I would plan on spending the night at my cousins house, only 1/2 mile away, only to call my mother after supper, asking to come home. I missed home ! I plan for the smell of a warm apple pie to greet him as he comes home tonight.
Once in a while Emery and I talk about going here or there for a big trip, but discover we find the most peace and happiness, sitting under the oak trees in the pasture, watching the chickens scratch for bites to eat. I am content. There is no need for me to run here and there seeking adventure. There is enough here at home to keep me amused. My family knows they can count on me being here and I like that. Mom is home, able to chat, able to help if the need be.
Emery calls me several times a day, because we miss each other. I love the sound of his voice, and enjoy his conversation.
The rooster is crowing, the leaves are rustling on the cottonwood tree, there is the occasional sound of a car whizzing by and nothing more to be heard, reminding me that as long as I sit here at the computer, there are not any sounds of housework being heard.
Have a blessed, peaceful day.
It is a silent sort of morning, sitting next to the wood stove in my rocker, watching the birds outside my windo...