It’s been so full, this week past. With long-time friends come a long-time way to stay, to catch up, to see Wyoming for the very first time, to be our first house guests in this tiny little house of ours! Yes. We can comfortably sleep eight over here, I’m happy to report. It was like camp all week.
And between all the busy and the meal sharing and the dishes and the apple butter making and the wild game hunting (and the not-blogging), there were snatches of slow - a row of knitting here and there while sunk deep in the old arm chair, story books read aloud, and easy conversation until late into the night. And for two-year-old entertainment? Wild turkeys and cottontail bunnies right outside the glass. It may be that I don’t wash my windows for a good long time, what with all those precious little hand prints on them now.
But, fall is falling fast, did you know?
I look out, and suddenly those trees are looking quite bare, and those pumpkins are sitting on the porch, patiently, and Old Summer’s garden is waiting to be pulled and tossed into a heap. The last of the fallen limbs from the old cottonwood are ready to be gathered stick-by-stick by a work-gloved boy, and all around we see things that need the general wrap-up for winter.
Yes. Wrapped up, put by, closed in.
Hmm, I think a roasted butternut would fit right into a day like this.