Rambling Thoughts of a Quiet Week

 I am enjoying this quiet week. It's a gift, time to pick up the pieces scattered in summer's busy wake. There is nothing pressing on the schedule except ripe tomatoes, and nowhere, after Monday night's storytelling performance, that requires my presence. There's something releasing in that--no need to watch the clock or calendar, no rush to get ready, no nothing.

All of our booths are restocked and I cannot believe I am saying this, but I am caught up with entering all receipts, etc and getting them filed. That. Never. Happens. And of course it will not last for long but for this moment I am enjoying the sight of an empty in-basket. Even the bills are paid, and next month's are ready to be mailed as soon as the first of the month rolls around.

I'm already packed for my trip to Ireland, too except for the last-minute things. Talk about planning ahead. I've been packed for the past week, actually. Not that I'm excited or anything. There's also a faint possibility of a trip to Africa in the spring, if things fall into place. I'm not getting my hopes up yet, but what an adventure that will be if it really happens!

This week, though, has been about simple things like a visit from a bunch of family on Saturday morning.

Great-granddaughter Cadyn, niece-in-law Juliet, and great-grandson Jace work on a bunch of grapes.
They had a great time running around picking things and trying to convince the chickens to lay.

Granddaughter Jordan (with Cambrie in my her tummy--due in November, her husband Chris,
and our granddaughter Hannah watch little Jaxon trying to open the gate.

There were 13 of us and it had been a while since I fixed breakfast for such a crowd.

Hannah and Jax--he did it! With a little help from Hannah.

What fun it was, to get back into that saddle. Lots of pancakes, sausage, coffee and conversation!

Daughter-in-law Jennifer and I cooked together, then enjoyed some porch time too.

Miss Cadyn and her little brother Jaxon

The family and a few friends, giving the sign for granddaughter Ally's volleyball team at
UT-Chattanooga, where she is just starting her freshman year.

The rest of this week has consisted of putting a few loads of tomatoes in the canner, taking care of the hummingbirds, and catching up on all sorts of small tasks. Mornings have been slow and leisurely time on the porch or the patio; evenings have been spent at the firepit or sometimes watching a movie. I haven't even picked up a paint brush although that may change tomorrow.

One of those to-do's that got taken care of was our youngest dog. He needed to be neutered but we put it off last summer, then it was winter and not on top of the list, then next thing we knew it was summer again. I've always heard that dog days are not a good time to have an animal fixed so I was waiting until they were over. A message from a neighbor reminded me that it was time--her little dog was in heat. So Buddy went off to the vet this morning and has come home less of a man than he was. I am glad to have that done, though; now all our pets are neutered.

It occurred to me as I was looking at all the Facebook pictures of children heading off to school that now I am seeing the children of people I knew when they were children now old enough to go to school and even college. Suddenly I am the older generation looking back on several generations behind me. Even my great-granddaughter is in first grade this year. There's a poignancy in seeing all those fresh faces, dressed in first-day-of-school clothes, new backpacks and shoes, starting on their next adventure. When I was a young mother I was too busy trying to just provide the basics and get everyone off looking half decent to even realize what a special time it was.

Fall is in the air here on the hill, with the Joe Pye Weed, Ironweed, and goldenrod coming into bloom. A few trees are showing hints of yellow and the garden looks like a wiry old man, hanging on in this dry, hot weather. The grapes will ripen while I'm away, and I hope Larry will be able to give them away. I am not going to worry about them; it will be what it will be and if there's none left when I come home, that's okay with me. There will be grapes again, in another year.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.