November Book Report: Over the Gate

On Instagram, I follow a handful of book readers, among them a group calling itself #missreadalong.  It’s a group that loves Miss Read books as much as I do and for some months of the year, the group reads a particular Miss Read book.  This November, the pick was Miss Read’s Over the Gate and of course I participated.

I’ve read this book before, but these days that is rather the point of a Miss Read book for me.  I’ve been reading them since 2006 and in every way, they have been comforting and happy reads.  The stories, which are unfailingly rooted in the joys and frustrations of everyday life, offer companionship and comfort.

There are two series in the Miss Read collection:  Fairacre and Thrush Green.  Each represents its own tiny universe of characters with amusing foibles of their own.  I love them both because of the way they are populated by very human people.  The Fairacre series is narrated by the wry Miss Read, the head teacher at the Fairacre school, a woman whose heart is kind without being sappy.  

The stories were written as a series and, as time passed, author Dora Saint filled in gaps in the collections, sometimes with stories of the characters who populate the books.  That is the case with Over the Gate, a collection of stories about Fairacre.

Nothing big ever happens in Fairacre and that is the charm of the stories - they are about daily life.  In Miss Read’s evocative descriptions of the everyday, there is always grace to be found.  When I need that grace I return to the stories, reading and re-reading them as often as I please.  That’s happy!

Food Friday: Turkey, Brie, Cranberry Panini

I like Thanksgiving leftovers best when they can be turned into something new.  One of my favorite post-holiday treats are the turkey, brie, and cranberry panini sandwiches we enjoy after the holiday feast.

I mix the the cranberry sauce leftovers with dijon mustard and spread a thin layer on a slice of bread, add thin slices of brie cheese, and minced turkey.  I top it with another slice of bread, butter both sides, and grill it on a low flame so that the brie has time to melt while the bread sears.  The result is delicious enough to become a holiday tradition of its own!

Card Sharks

My people are a competitive lot and nowhere is this more clear than when we play card games.  We are vicious and mean under these circumstances and normal people would be excused for dealing themselves out of the game.  

I consider myself less competitive than the rest of my family but I’ve made up for that in the form of JT.  The boy is so competitive that my mother, the lead genetic carrier of this dominant trait, eventually opts out of games with him, leaving a trail of simmering resentment when she departs the table.  

It’s somewhat interesting that JT is so fierce at the card table because in the world of sports, where competition is officially encouraged, he is genuinely a sportsman.  He cheers on teammates, celebrates their victories (even if they come at his own expense), and truly cares about his teammates.  The kid won an all-conference sportsman award in his first semester of NCAA athletic competition.

It’s clear that the NEWMAC conference has never played cards with the kid.  

Nowhere is JT’s ferocity more unpleasant than in the game of Monopoly Deal.  We bought it years ago in advance of a snow day and from the age of 8 forward, the kid just roasted me at the game.  Over and over, I’d lose to him, millions of dollars in debt, his sinister victory laugh the soundtrack to me shuffling and dealing a new game .  Eventually, I just refused to play that game with him.  

Whenever he plays cards with T and me, he proposes a round or two of Monopoly Deal.  We always say no.  But last night, in the spirit of thankfulness, we said yes.  It’s a different games with three people, more competitive for everyone and with less room for JT to slaughter the competition wholesale.  He won the first two rounds but without the usual wave of destruction.  Then T won a few rounds and both of us had the chance to stick it to the boy.  

It was delayed gratification for the beatdowns of so many years ago.  And in the true spirit of my people, I hope that we play again today.

Thankful

When I was a kid asking after everyone’s favorite holiday, my dad would choose Thanksgiving.  At the time, this seemed patently stupid to me; everyone knew that Christmas is the best holiday.  Yet there was my dad, suggesting that a family feast and time to be grateful for our blessings was the nicest day of the year.  For some time now, I’ve realized that my dad was on the right track as far as Thanksgiving is concerned.  I enjoy the tradition of day spent being thankful.

My Thanksgiving day started early so that the yeast rolls would have plenty of time to rise.  As the coffee brewed,  I stirred together pumpkin pecan bread for our breakfast.  As the bread baked, I sat with my coffee and laid out the day’s master plan.  We eat our supper in mid-afternoon and so I plan according, with a precise plan to bring the feast together.  It’s a process I greatly enjoy.

The day unfolds with ease, the kitchen smells amazing, and I feel incredibly grateful to have this happy home and a family to enjoy.  Our list of blessings is great and we know it. 

That’s happy!

Thankful Bouquet

I enjoy fresh flowers in the house and I am always sad to see the last of the zinnias picked from my garden.  This fall, after the frost, T urged me to treat myself and pick some fresh flowers from the market.  I can work wonders with a $10 bouquet and so I took her up on the offer.  Most weeks this fall, we've had fresh flowers to enjoy.  This week's Thanksgiving bouquet is especially nice.

That’s happy!

Happy Days

I remember a moment in May of 2018, as JT’s high school graduation and then departure from home for college was rapidly approaching, when I felt lost in the face of the coming changes.  I didn’t feel quite ready to give up my job as a full-time mama and I longed to stop time and even rewind it to experience again the days of working full time and then coming home to supervise homework, wash the laundry, get supper on the table, and tuck an eight-year-old into bed at night.  

I’m a realist and even in the midst of that longing, I remembered that those days weren’t always easy.  But on that day in May, as I was about to celebrate a high school graduate and was looking at a future that felt uncertain, I wished to go back.  

I am never a fan of uncertainty and the prospect of an “empty nest” (what a horrible phrase!) was uncertain.  How would I feel after JT left for school?  Would life (and the house) be too quiet?  Would I miss him with an empty aching feeling?  Worse yet, would he be homesick?  I thought he was ready to go but what if I was wrong?  How would I fill the time ahead of me?  The questions piled up as the uncertainty loomed.  

Sitting here now, from the vantage point of more than a year since that transition,  I see those longings in a more complete framework.  Some days, as I leave work with a bag full of things to be done at home, I wonder how I ever did it all.  JT is home for Thanksgiving Break, his second one as a college boy, and he’s happy and settled.  Life without a child at home turns out to be full and busy, with text messaging as the primary tool of my parenting game and time for T and I to enjoy one another’s company.  Between T and two cats, the house never feels lonely.  There is less laundry and the house stays clean for longer.  It turns out I find that quite lovely.

Being the parent of a young adult is a different sort of challenge and the fact that I like the man JT is becoming is a happy blessing.  My heart is full and glad and that’s a very nice way to contemplate the coming Thanksgiving.

Perpetually Behind

Lately, finding time to sit down and write has been rather a rare event.  It’s not as if I don’t have things to say.  I do.  I think it’s that the time I used to set aside to write and edit has been altered by my need to get schoolwork done in the mornings before I leave for school.

When I get home after the school day,  the day seem just as busy.  I try to get to the gym, look to start a load of laundry, or make supper, or some other chore that needs doing and before I know it, it’s 8 pm and I am tired and ready to put my feet up and rest on the sofa, tucked under a blanket with T by my side.  I vow to write the next day, but I don’t because the next day brings more of the busy that was the day before.  And so it goes and days turn into weeks and postings lag...

…and then here we are, with weeks between posts while the list of things I want to write about or need to finish writing stack up.  And then I am annoyed by myself (an emotion that never pays useful dividends) and more empty days on my blog pile up.  I write and post here for myself, a sort of public journal of my thoughts and emotions over the years.  I value readers and I am always happy to hear that someone has enjoyed something I’ve written.  But this blog started as a project for myself and that is what it remains.

When I don’t write, I feel like I am letting myself down.  I miss the time to process my thoughts.  And I need to find my way back to a few minutes of writing each day.  There is no more time to be found in the day but there is time that I can carve out.  I need to make it a priority as a way of looking after myself.  And so I plan to try just that.

Renewal

At the end of the day today, when T and I tuck into bed, my boy will be home for some rest and catching up and I will fall asleep aware and glad of the blessings in my life.  This will be my first break since the end of September, when T and I took a day off to travel north and watch JT race.  That single day off was lovely after a busy start to the school year.  But it was followed by week after week of long days and more than a few evenings at work.  I love my job but I am spent.

Teaching for a living means a flow of emotional energy in one direction, outward, to look after the needs of children.  I neither resent nor regret that; I love what I do for a living.  But I also recognize that it can take its toll, especially when workdays regularly extend past 9 or 10 hours and into the weekend.  Done right, teaching and school administration is both a lifestyle and a career.  I do my level best to do it right.

Doing it right also demands that I take the time to rest and re-group.  So the coming five days off are as hard-earned as they are much-desired.  I will be glad to cook and enjoy some leisurely meals with my family, to grab a work out at the start of the day when I am neither exhausted nor sore-footed, to have an extra cup of coffee and read and extra chapter of my book just because I want it.  

That’s happy!

Sycamore Leaves

Last weekend, T and I spent some time outside on fall chores.  There were canna bulbs to dig up, leaves in the backyard too mulch, and leaves everywhere in need of raking.  Though I don’t have any in my yard, my street is lined by tall sycamore trees.  Sycamore leaves are everywhere.  These leaves are enormous.

As I raked them into piles for collection, I remembered that little boy JT often admired these leaves and kept a look out for the largest ones.  The year he was 10, we made pictures of the biggest of the year.

He was best-pleased by this activity. These days, when I see an especially large sycamore leaf, I think about that little boy and the ways he brought so much laughter into my life.

Squirrel-A-Bration!

Last year in the first week of November, T’s beloved pet sugar glider, Zip, departed the earth for the land of sweeter treats.  Zip was a much beloved creature and this week we decided to celebrate his life by leaving extra treats for squirrels in our yard.  Living in our backyard means they dine on my garden on rather a regular basis.  This week meant more nuts, more stale bread, and more bits of leftover cereal.  It’s our way of reminding the universe how grateful we are for Zip.  Naturally, of course, they opted for the front porch pumpkin as well.

We are not the boss of the squirrels.

I Might Be a Grown Up

Today, I turn 52.  This is crazy for a million reasons, but especially because it means I am clearly a grown up.

I do not feel like a grown up.

Over the years, I’ve realized that no one really ever feels like a grown up.  Clearly I must be: I’ve raised a child, I have a full time job that quite likely is a career, I have a home that I care for and utility bills that I regularly pay.  I cut the grass and do other grown-up things.

All the evidence is in:  I am a grown up.

A grown up who loves being JT’s mama and T’s partner; whose days are made better by flowers, good books, mason jars, and twinkling lights; who likes to cook and feed the people she loves; who pours over garden and book catalogs and daydreams about both.  And let’s not even mention the time I spend planning out front porch decorations for each month.  I like to laugh and play card games.  I love coloring books and the occasional cat video.  I like a fresh pedicure and a soft blanket; candlelight and sunrises.  My list of joys great and small could go on and on. I realize what a blessing this is.

But mostly I am filled with enormous gratitude for the people I love and who see fit to love me back, warts and all.  Time is flying by at a speed I never could have imagined when I was 10 or 20.  I am grateful for all of it and so very glad of this life I love.

That’s happy!

November Front Porch

The front porch is always ready for the next season.  The Halloween decorations have been packed away and replaced by November’s thankful display.

Pumpkins, mums, and gourds remain the theme of the season, though I am well aware that soon enough the local wildlife will hop up here to treat the table’s bounty as their own personal buffet.

As a child, I thought of Thanksgiving as the boring prelude to the spell of joy that is December.  My father always preferred Thanksgiving and the older I get the more I appreciate a month that reminds us to be grateful for our blessings in this life.  This is the thankful season and being thankful means that I am glad to share with any hungry creatures.  I am always thankful for my home and there is no reason not to share our gratitude with others.

Happy November, y’all!

Mulch Mower for the Win

Between the tall sycamore and oak trees that line my street and the trees in my own backyard, the leaf harvest around here is something to behold.  We do our best to rake and bag them for the town to pick up at the curb but the chore can seem never-ending.  Enter me and my mulching mower.  

Ground up, the leaves are a great fertilizer for my lawn.  And mulching them row by row is satisfying, at least for the few days hours that the grass looks tidy.

Soon enough, leaves will once again cover the lawns and sidewalks.  

Raking and mulching will take several rounds before we can call the job complete.   But while there is still gas in my mower, my mulching ambitions can be fulfilled.

That’s happy!

November 1: Fairy Garden

Last weekend, the fairies packed up for the season.  They head south for the Winter, though in their case it’s the milder weather of the basement where they can rest safely during the cold season.   Leaves will fill this patch until they are raked up and the colder weather and snow eventually arrive.  Over the Winter, I’ll do some prep work in the fairy town and likely talk my way into some new fairy accessories, as is my way.

The bird feeder is filled to keep the birds happy in the coming cold weather.  Truth is that the squirrels will also have a try at scoring a treat but we’ve laid in plenty of bird seed, so there is enough for everyone.  Each season of the year has something to offer and this patch of the garden always reminds me of the wisdom of Mother Nature’s plan.