My Favorite Season

I woke up this morning and I swear I could smell banana bread, and family reunions, and fallen leaves and football.

Hello September.

My favorite season is upon us.

I love how I can feel it in the air, the undercurrent that moves in this time of year. The quiet change of seasons, long before the calendar says its time.

The air feels charged. It crackles with the hint of what is to come.

If I could travel the world chasing Fall, I would.

It is the reason I could never live anywhere that doesn't have the four seasons.

I look forward to it every year. It is so beautiful, even before the leaves begin to change. It feels fresh and warm. It is delicious and inviting. It is the promise of cold mornings and warm blankets to snuggle under.

This time of year draws me into my home to begin the work of preparing for the long winter. I crave slow cooked stews and chili. I want to bake breads and cakes and caramel rolls.

Oh, how the Hubs hates hearing me utter the "W" word, but I love the prelude to Winter!

I am still waiting to hear word on the start date for the Lucky house. I'm not going to lie, it's not easy waiting. I am going a bit stir crazy, but it's just a little time in the grand scheme of things. So I will wait, as patiently as possible (which is not very patiently at all).

Right now I am going to marvel in the wonder that is this beautiful time of year. I am going to pack away my possessions in boxes to prepare for the move, the way a squirrel packs away for the winter. I am going to throw caution to the wind and put faith in the honesty of others and believe that we will begin on the house sooner than later.

Faith.

Autumn seems to call for faith. Faith that this season will bring the cold, sometimes harsh winter, but faith that it will melt into Spring before we know it.

Lately I have felt like time has been standing still while I have been waiting, but today reminds me that change is coming.

I am ready for it.

Linking up with this lovely blog and this one too!

Posted with Blogsy

Comments

Changes

I was cleaning today, which gave me time to think, and thinking always leads me here. The house is 'weekend messy', so decided to clean my floors, because The Nester says if your floors are clean the rest of the house feels clean too, even if it isn’t. I have found that it is pretty good advice, so when everything else feels chaotic, I clean the floors. Of course for me, cleaning the floors also means picking up the toys, shoes, clothes, etc. so that I can even begin to vacuum, which naturally leads to a cleaner home as well. While cleaning up I began to think about how this blog has evolved over the years, from a desire to write like The Nester about home, into what it is now. I started writing this blog when I was dreaming of building a new home. Then plans changed, life took turns, and we ended up in a home so different than I expected and so perfect for our family. Somewhere along the way I realized that home wasn’t in the walls that went up or in ...

Summer Lessons

Making our house feel like home in the summer feels more chaotic to me than the slower months. November through March, when its dark early and bedtimes come swiftly, meals are slow cooked all day long, and warm light comes from houses in the evening hours, just naturally lends itself to an aesthetic of quiet and calm. At least for me. Summer lends itself to late nights out, days where we are only home long enough to drop piles by the door, eat and leave a mess on the table, dirty more clothes than a small country in a matter of days, and the chaos of home just seems unsettled and rushed. I am going in circles most days, feeling like I am not accomplishing anything and yet spinning and spinning and trying to not tip over. And yet... And yet, a couple times a month someone asks me “How do you do it all?” I feel like I am that analogy of a duck on the pond, I look calm on the surface, but underneath my feet are kicking like crazy. And really that is just o...

The Farmer

I trust that, by now, you have all seen the commercial heard round the world. You know, the one that stopped all action and silenced a nation when the soft rumble of that voice drifted into living rooms on a Super Bowl Sunday. Yes that commercial . Paul Harvey's voice, unmistakable in its sincerity and beauty, spoke of a people whom work from sun up till sun down with no recognition. He spoke of a people whom care for their baby animals and pour their blood, sweat and tears into helping them grow. He spoke of a people, so foreign to many in the world today. He spoke of a people whom many have forgotten. He spoke of a people; my people. The farmer. I am a fourth generation farmer married to a fourth generation farmer. Together we are raising the fifth generation. We don't do it because its easy, it's not. The hours my husband spends working rival that of any doctor or lawyer I have ever met. We don't do it because it's profitable, some years it...

Simple Home and Happiness

Search This Blog