So Glad for October

Oct 14, 2018

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November,wouldn’t it? ” (Chapter sixteen of Anne Of Green Gables).As I look out my office window at the cacophony of color in the field and in the hills across the road I second Anne’s sentiment. I have always loved October but this year especially my soul needs this month to recover.On this beautiful, sunny, October Sunday morning I take stock and rejoice in the gift October is to me.I have a crock of baked beans slowly cooking in the oven and will fashion a Sunday supper feast available to any of my loved ones who gather in.I will walk the wood road above my house as last week I somehow missed the opportunity to take the benefits a wood road walk always offers. I guess rain and cold and circumstance robbed me of that but today I will make it a priority. Yesterday I went to the market then into the city for two book signings. Book signings are not my favorite aspect of the writing life but really as I have stated before it is a privilege even when it feels futile and the plethora of books surrounding you makes you feel like an inconsequential insect ; a small bug under glass hoping someone might find your species interesting. That sounds a bit dramatic but signings do give one lots of thinking time. I have a habit of conducting tallies as I watch people go by. Yesterday I tallied Mothers and Daughters, mothers and sons, scarves,and ponytails. Too much time on my hands obviously. But with that being said I had memorable interactions and sold a few books. I met a woman named Lois and we had a lovely chat. She bought Waiting For Still Water.I had two Aunt Lois’, one on each side of the family. I loved them both but after talking to yesterday’s Lois I recalled the day Zac died when I asked my sister in law to call my Aunt Lois. When she returned from making that call her words describing my aunt’s reaction alerted me immediately to the fact that she had contacted the wrong Aunt Lois. I asked her to call the other one and within the appropriate travel time my Aunt Lois arrived at my door. Recalling the moment she , my Uncle Bernie and my cousin Joy walked through the door still makes me weep.Back to the beauty of October. How can the palate of leaves be so amazing that each shade flickers and sparkles in the sunshine. It is a splendid last dance before the trees stand bare and colorless in November . They give up their beauty knowing it will be crystals of snow and ice on stage next.This year October speaks loudly to me of those stages we experience in our own existence. My mother’s outward beauty had its day , had its dance and as her life waned the luster diminished. But as I looked at my mother in those last days I saw a beauty beyond the adornments of hair and jewelry and fashion. I saw the lasting beauty of who she was and the mark she left on those who knew her. Ok enough already. I will take this beautiful day and savor it. I will cook and clean, watch my husband as he begins to carry in our winter’s wood taking great joy in my surroundings and the gift of October.


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