Ok – it’s the inevitable march of the seasons. Here in the Northeast, the signs are all there. The trees have lost their leaves and the fall colors are gone. We’re into that no-persons land of stark tree branches and browning earth. Although, this year it’s been warmer than usual and the grass, believe it or now, is still a bit green.
The season is upon us, though, and the prospect of winter is here. We’re turning on the heat each morning. It starts “to take the chill off”, but now the furnace kicks on sporadically during the day as well. Typically, I forget to turn it down an hour or two before we go to bed, so then I’m in the ironic position of opening a window just a bit so Her Ladyship doesn’t overheat. The other seasonal transitions are kicking in too. Setting the clocks back this weekend. The electric bill goes down because the air conditioning is shut down, but the heating bills go up proportionally. The days are getting shorter. I go out to get my morning paper in the dark, and my first glass of wine is also in the twilight rather than on the deck with a refreshing breeze.
I put the deck and terrace furniture away a few weeks back, but time to cover up what is left, throw out the last of the containers because the first hard frosts have pretty much finished them off. The squirrels are even more frenetic that usual, and I spotted a couple of mice running about inside the garage. The wildlife are sure predicters of what’s coming. Our flock of wild turkeys – I’ll claim ownership because they live in our neighborhood – too are scurrying about, picking morsels from anything and everything they can find. The ducks on the pond and the geese that pop in have long departed southward in neat v-formations. We hear them overhead from time to time.
The indoor chores start now – putting on or down the storm windows. Cutting down on the drafts. The Princess will be home this weekend, so her puffy quilt will come out when she drapes herself artistically across the couch. No, forget that – the quilt comes out every time she’s home. Matters not the season. She gets a chill easily. There is a cactus in the bedroom window that’s in full blossom. It came to us as a give four or five years ago at Christmas time in full bloom, so I assumed . . . . . . Apparently not. I put it out on the screened porch in the warm weather and it budded and blossomed some time in June. Now it’s in full bloom again, so perhaps it’s a Thanksgiving cactus. Who knows? The seasons are so mixed up now, we’re getting tropical storms year-round. I put out some Indian corn that I picked up a couple of weeks ago. I sprayed it with animal repellant (I know, I know. More chemicals in the environment!) and that didn’t do a thing. It was picked clean within 48 hours, and nothing looks more pathetic than corn without kernels. Like a sunflower when the seeds are gone. I even sprayed the pumpkin I bought for Halloween, and I notice that’s got a couple of bites from it this morning. I can’t feel badly, though. That’s what these things are for. From now on, I’ll forget about repellants and just let the beasties have at it. I can’t bring myself to get plastic pumpkins and gourds. The colors are a bit too “artificial” – they assault the eyes.
Just a wee bit early to put out the Thanksgiving decorations. We have a lovely couple of Pilgrims that a friend gave us many years ago. Those will come out the week of, or right before. Are we getting a little tired of “pumpkin spice” everything? The coffee shops are moving on, as are the grocery stores. Princess Elizabeth had a bit of a stomach flu, and missed the opening day of Peppermint Latte at Starbucks. She’s had two since, but she informs me it’s not quite the same. The bags of pumpkin coffee are now on sale in a bin right up front. Not in an honored spot in the coffee section. I tried a couple of years ago buying it up to save for next year. That doesn’t work – it’s stale and loses most of its flavor by next fall. May have to buy some new fall scented candles too. Ours are the right color, but about 10 years old, so the aroma has gone the way of the Indian corn.
Fall is, for many of us, a rather quirky time of year. The outside container gardens are pretty well spent, hard frosts having finished them off last week. I’ll collect the containers and put them away for the season with a slight hint of regret. The plants will go into that great compost pile out back, except for the bulbs I’m going to try to “harvest”. Haven’t ever done that before, so we’ll see how that works out. (I usually just buy bags of them in the spring and pretend that I’m practically professional.). But there are serious questions to be asked in November. Like, how cold does it need to be before we turn the heat on? Her Ladyship and I have discussed, one might say, debated on the very edge of argument how late in the season we want to push it. She is of belief that one’s teeth should be chattering before the thermostat is touched. We start getting out the winter “stuff” – car scrapers and rubber mats, snow shovels at the ready in case of a “surprise” storm. Of course, we’re no longer surprised by anything. Had a Halloween snow storm a few years back that knocked out the power for days. So far this year, nothing, which means I’ve now cursed it and we’ll have a blanket of white by the first of December.
Time to ease into the dark evenings and brutal “browness” of November and early December. The English Christmas carol, “In The Bleak Midwinter” is to me a misnomer. I find that “In the Bleak Pre-Christmas” might be more appropriate, because to me, this is one of the most unsettling times of year. Nature is shutting down. Animals are either flying south or hunkering down. I’m putting down the storm windows this afternoon, and doing the final closings of my beloved screened porch. It’s a time of looking back rather than forward. Perhaps a time to take a deep breath and steel ourselves for winter’s ice and snow. On the plus side this year, we’re down to one car, which fits nicely in the garage, so no more scraping, brushing and moving cars out of the plow’s way. That’s something to which I look forward. Time to line up the reading materials and get out the warm clothes. Time to put away the polo shirts, the shorts, the sandals. (OK, I’m old school. I know that many wear those year-round.). Time to get out the parka, the gloves and scarves, the sweaters and corduroy pants, the fleeces and woolen caps. Bring it on, cold weather. I’m almost ready.
I'm Thinking...No! 