A beautiful fall day

A beautifully cloudy day, but naught to catch my eye but fallen leaves, and those are not covered by any snow at all. The weather has been dry and windy, and I despair at keeping the floors clean, since dust blows in each time the doors are opened.

During November (2017), I took part in a “poem a day” activity with the same group who got together for NaPoWriMo in April. I still am working on a few that need more attention; the remainder are on my Quiet Spaces journal, The Written Word at Home (the “posts” link).

Retrospective July 2015

Now that the old garden is no more, and seeds for fall planting have been ordered from American Meadows, I am sitting in the front room with my computer, reviewing the flower photos from 2015. The above pictures are from 24 July 2015.

Al bought low fencing which, combined with the taller stuff from the previous garden, appears to be keeping the dogs out. The ground is turned and waiting for seeds and final raking before winter sets in.

The day is cloudy, gloomy with a forecast of rain. I have finished reading Modesitt’s Solar Express, again. Another of the “reread often” selection. Must remember to order a paper version, so that if the digital library ever fails, I will have an outgassed edition to hand.

Next up is Crosstalk by Connie Willis.

Gloomy Monday

I got some puppy pictures, this morning, also, but must wait on them until I finally have breakfast lunch.

Holidays and Family

I think I started avoiding the parents’ home at the holidays during my first years after college. My job in IT made it easy to do because of the holiday work schedule. End of year is an exciting time in a computer center. It’s all about deadlines. After leaving to start my own business, my holidays vanished. That was the time when clients who had time off from their own jobs could leave their family members at home to take care of holiday preparations while they got their special projects over to me to finish up before Christmas or before New Year’s Day. When I made it home, I slept through a lot of the festivities…or wanted to leave early and get back to my place to catch up on my sleep.

Money was tight during most of the thirty years I ran my own business. Marriage, eight years into the thirty, added emotional support, expanded resources, a car, and a second Christmas and Thanksgiving Day to get to every year. One year, a couple years into self-employment, there was no money for a Christmas present for the parents. And so I wrote a poem, copied it (calligraphy, special paper) and mounted it in an old picture frame.

My parents no longer entertain at Christmas. My own siblings have scattered and formed their own holiday patterns and customs.

And so, looking back to a holiday season decades ago, this is the poem that I wrote:

Born of Love
by
Elizabeth W. Bennefeld

You taught me how to stand apart,
to understand and be myself.
You gave me the courage to walk alone
when none would join me.
You showed me how to look through words
into the worlds that others live in.
You taught me how to listen
with my heart and dare to make
no judgments
but those born of love.

Note: This poem was written as a Christmas gift to my parents and later published in an anthology featuring works of members of the Australian Chapter of RWA, (WordCraft Publishers, 1999.  Copyright © 1986/1999, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld. All rights reserved.

Perspectives on Dead Leaves

Life Simplification Processes are very complicated. Since the death of my youngest sister at the end of September and my subsequent health issues, December’s arrival was unexpected. Someone should have set up a count-down clock to January and the new year. Along with the winter cold (I hope this is it for the entire season. Why else the pneumonia and flu shot?) has come a need to … stop.

It’s amusing and frustrating that stopping involves so much groundwork. I want the domains that I used for business to vanish, but I want to keep the email addresses. Or, do I really? I don’t want to get back into the “Should I retire? or should I not?” routine. And if I knew what I was doing with the DNS, I would just plug in email forwarding commands. It’s been so many years since I’ve worked with it, I’ve forgotten. The simplest approach is to go ahead and cancel the web hosting, which I have done, and keep renewing the domains until I die. And let emails vanish into the ether. Yeah, I think I can do that.

Color inversions can make the same picture into something totally different. Changing one’s perspective can do the same thing to a life.

Inverted Color Natural Color

Leaves in the Grass

On Friday, the cold finally descended on us, along with cold winds. The dog and I went outside several times to take photographs. The second time, I stopped to put on moccasins and a warm shirt. That worked a lot better.

Both I and the dog were not feeling our best, today. She slept underneath a living room chair, and I fell asleep in the recliner, getting up when I woke feeling warm, again. I like the autumns and the winters. I enjoy the cooler weather, fresh-smelling winds, and the frost on cold mornings. Spring and summer, with the pollen and wasps—not so much.

I enjoy cooking in the colder weather, too. Thick soups, pot roasts, and omelettes with strawberries and preserves, Monterey Jack cheese, chopped mushrooms and ham. Coffee concentrate reconstituted with steaming hot milk instead of water.

And I love the colors of the leaves. The patterns in which they fall, and the textures that are visible when the late afternoon sun shines through them. semi-transparent leaf in the grass

Close-up of Leaf in Grass
Leaf Pattern