Fall from Grace

 

Fall is not a graceful time. It seems so indeterminate. One day summer, the next day winter. You never know how to dress. Layers discarded all over the house then frantically searched for later as the sun wanes and the evening chill moves in.

And not a time to be lazy. There are things to still harvest and process, container gardens to clean out or move inside or plant in a bed. There are hoses to untangle from the uncut grass and coil up and store. I hang them from fence posts above the snow though one winter the snow came over the fence.  Firewood to stack inside the woodshed or under the cover of the front porch. I learned the hard way on this when early snows buried three cords of wood and froze them to the ground beneath the snow. No warm fires that winter.

That was, I believe, the same winter I found out it was not wise to depend upon frequent trips to the grocery store just five miles away. Be like the ant and not the grasshopper and stock the larder and the freezer. Be sure their are adequate batteries for all the emergency lights when the power goes out. Have plenty of ebooks loaded on the Kindle. And supplies for winter flights of creative fantasy. Picked up my first two sticks, two dried bones, and a very interesting rock yesterday. And take more Aspen photos.

This fall has created a lot of anxiety about the approaching winter. There is a forecast Covid spike which may be worse than the first. There has been no fall art fairs which always provided money for rising winter heating bills. And the firewood arrived early. That should be good, right? But my supplier threw in extra, me being a good customer and all. That extra still has not been given shelter. Snow on Sunday? It has been too dry so water to protect the new plants. Then I began two winter projects: paint the apartment in preparation for laminate flooring; and purchase a new computer before the ten year old Windows 7 HP crashed. It had all the symptoms of impending doom. How is it one or two lines on your to do list can occupy so much time and energy? And be there for seemingly forever without a DONE beside them, while new items are added to do. And unexpected tasks which pop up because a friend twisted her ankle or couldn't make her scheduled fall trip out and could I drain her pipes.

Then there are the tasks you have been skirting around or pushing down, like a thorough cleaning of the camera (kit delivered by Amazon over a month ago) and the Air Stream curtains for a friend. Pajamas for your sister. Not avoidance but they  require a calm space in the house and my life. The calm space seems so elusive just now. Every task marked done precedes another one, two or three added.

Remember to move the snow shovels where they will not be buried in snow.

Empty water storage containers on the plants that need watered and refill.

Remove temporary fence from in front of woodshed before it freezes to the ground.

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