Tag Archives: autumn


Been doing a lot of stuff lately.  Mostly this:


(All taken with my iPhone.  No filters, no color correction or enhancements.  I know, right?)


And I made this for you:


(Again, with my iPhone, but this is terrible.  Maybe I should have taken this outside and flung it in the air to get a good shot.)


I’m outside every day with Nellie and it’s giving me plenty of time to reflect, and considering the escalation of terrible events lately, I want to appreciate simple beauty right in my back yard.  I am so thankful I have what I have, and I’m grateful for opportunities to give, and I wish my American readers a Thanksgiving of simplicity and contentment.


Back soon, and maybe there’ll be some sarcasm.


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Scenes from an Autumn Home


Wee flowers in a jar, sad because they didn’t make it into the big arrangement. We love you anyway, blossoms!


This is about as scary as we get around here. We are not a family for gore and horror.


Small boxes on a windowsill. I think they used to hold candy or something. The boxes were the good part.


I don’t know why, but I love this floppy-footed guy.


This blurry guy is sitting on our mantle. Note: It is TOTALLY the pumpkin that is blurry. It is not a reflection on my camera skills or lack thereof.


And this little guy hangs on the other end. Note: HE knows how to do his job right and not be blurry.


That rusty little watering can speaks much about my gardening talents.


A friend made this for me. It’s so tiny! So cute! So squee!


Another view.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love autumn?  Probably not.  I’m really restrained about things like that.

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Guys and gals, I have been most thoroughly enjoying October!  There has been apple picking and apple baking and applesauce making, soups and breads and plans for further delights.

Leaves and crisp air, intensely blue skies.

Distant sounds of marching band practice and football whistles.

Hand knitted socks on frosty feet, snuggled into slippers as more are knit.

Knitting of Christmas gifts while making best friends with Netflix.

Drawing at my desk with the intense sunshine pouring in, and reading in my chair when the dusk is creeping in and I light some candles.

In other words….



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It’s My Time

Oh, yes, it is.

This weather we’re experiencing now in New Jersey is DA BOMB.  It is crystal clear blue skies, big white fluffy clouds, clean-smelling air, and temperatures that quicken the blood and put roses in your cheeks.  Who could NOT love this weather?  Seriously, I do not understand sun-worshippers in the slightest.

I don’t get putting on a bathing suit, first of all.  It is a latex material (read: rubber bands) that doesn’t glide onto your body like normal clothes: it has to be pulled and tugged and jerked and readjusted a hundred times just to cover all the bits it’s supposed to cover.  By then, you’re already dripping wet with sweat from the exertion of it all, but now there’s the schlepping of all the things needed at the beach:

  • Cover up to cover the bathing suit that just cost you 35 minutes of your life to put on;
  • Sandals or flip-flops to negotiate over the long trek of hot sand, and really, how effective are those things at either walking or keeping your feet from the blazing temperatures of Hot.Sand;
  • Lotion to either keep you looking a normal shade of skin or an oil that will leave you looking like a well-basted Thanksgiving turkey;
  • Sunglasses which only marginally cut down on the squinting required;
  • Towels of every shape and size, to encompass the sitting, the wrapping of wet hair, the drying of wet bodies, the one to keep dry to brush off sandy feet before getting in the car and invariably gets wet anyway;
  • Snacks and/or lunch: must include sandwiches because it’s tradition but shouldn’t be because no matter how well you wrap them they’re going to get sand in them (and why shouldn’t they since sand is in their name), fruit which nobody will want because it’s drippy and juicy and messy and where do I put the pit or the core?  (Of course, these problems are solved by bringing frozen grapes, but let’s face it, you’re the only one who’s going to eat them.)  The drippy and messy argument kind of gets forgotten when there’s ice cream available, isn’t that funny;
  • Money to purchase said ice-cream;
  • Something to DO; how can anyone just sit there and do nothing and sweat while doing it?  So how a bout a magazine, which is rendered useless because of the glare from the sun; playing cards which will get sand and water on them; knitting, which adds some interesting texture to the yarn when a piece of seaweed accidentally ends up entwined in the mix; a book which is less glare-y than a magazine but still ends up damp, sandy, and induces naps;
  • Beach toys, like buckets and shovels and blow-up balls, flotation devices, those skimming things that look like baby surfboards, and for the really adventurous, a kite;
  • Spare bucket or bag to put the fifty-seven seashells you’re bound to bring home.

What do I do at this time of year, and what equipment do I need?

  • My legs to walk among the fall flowers and leaves;
  • My camera (or phone) to records a particularly stunning example of such;
  • Comfortable clothes;
  • That’s pretty much it.

Hands down, this is my time of year.  Here it is, Monday, and I’ve already done two loads of laundry and put dinner in the crockpot (pork shoulder with cranberry chutney, if you’re interested) and haven’t broken a sweat.  I’m not even breathing hard.

Yeah, this is TOTALLY my time.  Enjoy!


Woo Hoo!

Woo Hoo!


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Argle Bargle

Sitting down to write my Monday blog post, I first wanted to import pictures from my camera to my laptop.  This is a fairly straightforward task, involving running the cord from the camera into the USB port, turning on the camera, and waiting for the two pieces of “smart” machinery to speak to each other.  Oy.

My laptop is a 2007 Apple MacBook, running version 10.6.8 which is Snow Leopard.  I can’t upgrade any further so I’m stuck with all the incarnations of software.  Now, I absolutely love iPhoto, and am willing to pay the $14.99 for the upgrade to iLife11.  I AM NOT ALLOWED.  I’M BANISHED FROM THE KINGDOM.  MY LAPTOP ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH TO PLAY WITH THE BIG KIDS.

Normally this wouldn’t bother me, as I don’t rush out to get the latest and the greatest.  (I got my iPhone 4 for free in an upgrade.  Before that, my phone resembled the phasers in Star Trek.  The TV show, not the movie.)  But in order to crop and edit my photos in iPhoto (which, remember, I absolutely love) I have to endure many cycles of the mini-rotating-beach-ball-of-doom.  During and after each picture.  For five minutes at a time.  For each command.  Crop?  I like the size, I hit “apply” and then I wait.  (Thank goodness I have a magazine nearby.)  Up the sharpness a bit?  Scroll along the bar…..ooops, the system can’t handle that tricky maneuver so it’s giving me a time out.  I pull out my knitting and have completed two socks and a scarf by the time it’s done.  Maybe cut down the overexposure a wee bit?  Leave home and do a month’s worth of grocery shopping, put it all away, and it’s still spinning.  *sigh*  Me?  Exaggerate?  Surely not.

Which is a long way of saying, I hope you enjoy these photos of our apple-picking extravaganza this weekend.  And if you don’t, please don’t tell me.  It just might send me over the edge.


the view just as we pulled up. I want to live in that house way up on top.



They had boy toys! Or, more apt, toys FOR boys.


Golden Delicious, love the color.




An arch of apples. A gateway, if you will, to yumminess.


Smack dab inside the tree to get an artsy shot.


No idea what this is, so we christened it the appleberry.


Very long path to the end to find the Macouns.


All the noms! (And somebody around here desperately needs a nail file.)


In case anyone is wondering what to get me for Christmas, this’ll do nicely.

Hmmmm….. did anyone else notice that I started this post explaining the peculiarities of my laptop and then segued so charmingly into apple-picking?  See what I did?  APPLE-picking?  Yikes.  

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