Glorious Autumn And Its Inspiration

Autumn is my number two favorite season.  Number one is Winter, but we'll talk about that another time.  Autumn is THE season of change.  Almost everything around us changes (well, depending upon where you live).  I'm a New Englander, so here, the climate changes.  We go from humid, balmy, hot temperatures to cool, chilly, clear temperatures, where everyday becomes a good hair day.  The sky seems to be a brighter, deeper blue.  The breezes kick up to help all of those beautifully changing leaves detach from the fingers of the tree branches.

And the leaves.  Green to red to orange to yellow to brown and never all at once!  Drifting and swirling down from the heights of the tree tops, making you feel as though you are in a confetti storm.  Leaves.  Crunching, skittering, dancing across the pavements and being caught in mini-wind tunnels.  The smell of the leaves.  You find yourself walking to the outside and just breathing deep.  Ahhh!  These leaves, dropping and dancing downward draw us out of our dwellings with rakes in hand to play.  Raking mounds and mounds of leaves to be danced upon and dived into (watch out for twigs, though!).  But, please, no leaf blowers!!  And then we notice them.  We find little crimson ones.  Long yellow and orange ones.  And massive brown ones of oak and maple.

The air.  The air smells sweeter.  It's clearer because the humidity has left us (especially if you live near the ocean).  It's cooler.  At night, you gradually add a blanket as the temps begin to drop.  You sleep better.  I know I love waking up to a cold room, where your shoulders are cold but the rest of you is warm and cozy under a much loved quilt or comforter.  You can smell the smoke from wood burning stoves and fireplaces.  There's a little bit of frost on the tips of the blades of grass in the mornings, or on your car's windshield.  You find yourself stuffing your gloves in your jacket pockets and checking on your stock of knit hats.

The wildlife.  I love seeing huge flocks of black birds, grackle, cowbirds, and starlings descend upon the dogwood trees, burning bushes, and bittersweet vines to gobble up all of the bright berries they can find.  I can hear the rustling near small leaf piles where birds are scratching with their feet, getting at the grubs, slugs, and worms that are nestling under them.  Goldfinches always come to my perennial garden to feast upon the purple cone flower seeds that I've left for them.  Squirrels and chipmunks are extremely focused and determined to collect as many nuts, seeds, and berries that they can find to store up for winter.  We hear the honking of the geese as they, in perfect formation, begin their journey south.

Us.  Our clothing (again, depending upon where you live) changes.  We are wearing longer pants and long sleeved shirts.  Sweat shirts.  Pajamas.  Flannel!  Socks find their way back onto our feet, as do regular shoes.  Most people (excepting my daughter-in-law) pack away the flip flops.  We say so long to the summer salads.  We begin to crave the mac 'n cheese, roast beef dinners, chilis, roasted turkeys, and ham dinners.  We haul out the crock pots and begin baking the pies and cobblers.  We swap the cold cereal for flavored oatmeal and french toast.  Maple syrup on everything? Yes, please! And the pumpkin everything - you know who you are.

All of these pretty drastic changes.  And we accept them.  We have to.  No choice.  No alternative (except to move).  I find it refreshing.  As a matter of fact, I find it inspirational.  If all of practically everything around me can change.....why can't I?  Why can't I try something new?  Why can't I speak up when I've been silent for, um, always?  Why can't I be the person on the outside that I've known all along is living on the inside?
Why should I apologize for being myself?  Why can't I say 'No'?  I've outgrown the mold that others have encased me in.  It's broken.  I'm not broken.  The perception of me is broken.  Because it's changing.  All of me.  Those of you who know me, calm down, I'm not 'coming out' to anything (because I know that's what this kind of sounds like, but, no).  I think I've just finally hit my stride.

I'm me.  I love me.  My husband loves me.  My kids love me.  My grandson adores me.  I have finally accepted the confirmation of who I am in this world.  Just as nature around me sheds and shakes and swirls and inspires, that's what I will embrace, also.  I want to shed, shake, swirl, and inspire.  I want to leave pretty patterns in the frost.  I want my imprint to be colorful, cozy, and comforting.  I want those who love me and care about me to look and me and smile, the way I smile at the birds, leaves, squirrels, and casserole dish full of mac 'n cheese.

And I hope that others will appreciate and be inspired, somehow, by
the glory of changes in themselves, if not clearly visible in the glorious nature around them.

Slowness of a Sunday

I was talking with someone the other day about how Sundays used to be.  There was a time, really not very long ago, where it was unusual for retail stores, liquor stores, or sporting activities were in operation on Sundays.  Time on Sundays was reserved for church and/or family.  It was a day to chill.  Relax. Catch up.  Visit.  Reflect.  Plan.  Rest.  Read.  Commune with others.

We live in an age now where everyone needs a leg up over someone else.  Whether it be in making money, over-scheduling our children's activities, or running around gathering items to make ourselves feel better and keep up with our neighbors and colleagues.  Even in how we spend our time - "What are you doing this weekend?"  Uh, oh - it's going to sound lame when I say, "Nothing"!  We have social media that makes our lives look more exciting and interesting than they really are (except my social media - check it out).  We complain that we need one more day in our week.  No we don't.  We need to take our Sundays back.

Yesterday was a gloomy, rainy Sunday.  I had plenty of chores that needed to be accomplished.  There was housework to do, photographs of stock for the store needed to be taken, end of summer yard work still needs to be done......yet, I chose to do nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  And I loved it.  My husband, who is constantly busy working on something, whether it's actually work or household related, took part of the day to join me in doing nothing.  We just watched TV and talked.  We enjoyed each others company.  It was wonderful.

We need Sundays to stay connected with our families.  We need Sundays to rest from all of the hard work we put into the other six days.  We need Sundays to feed our spirits with prayer, meditation, and activities that bring us joy.  We need Sundays to do what we want, instead of what other people think we should be doing.  We are not in a race.  We don't have competitors.  But, if we don't return to enjoying the slowness of Sundays, we may all end up to be losers.

Catching Up

Oh, how life has changed in just a couple of years.  Yes, I've been absent from my blog for quite some time.  So much has happened in that time.

My son, my oldest child, got married in June of 2013.  He married a wonderful woman who fits right into our family.  That was an adjustment for mom, here.  My baby got married.  As happy as I was for them, I spent the day after the wedding crying over photo albums of my baby boy.  Not a baby anymore - a man. A husband.  Okay.  Dried my tears and was three months into adjusting to my new normal of having a married son and......"we're expecting".  Yup, just about three weeks before their first wedding anniversary, my grandson was born.  And I melted.  

It is so true that you love your grandchild differently than your own child.  I think it's because the love feels deeper because we aren't so entrenched in the day to day worry of the care of the child.  And it is complete deja vu for me because my grandson looks *just like* my son.  In some ways I feel like I have my baby boy back.

Fast forward a year later.  I'd been working at a healthcare facility for a couple of years and had received two promotions.  I was working as a medical biller when, one Wednesday night, more changes were to come.  My grandson's day care provider made the decision to move away.  Like soon.  My son and his wife had just bought a house a few months before, and they both worked full-time.  What would they do?  Would I take care of the baby?  Could I take care of him? Please?! Of course! Yes! A thousand times, YES!

So......I quit my job.  Just like that.  I quit.  For the past 13 months I have been my grandson's day care provider Monday - Friday.  AND I LOVE IT!  It was an adjustment as far as mental stimulation.  Instead of having my mind busy with medical insurance billing and all of the duties I had as a full-time employee, I was spending my days on the floor reading books, playing with trains, and doing wooden puzzles with a toddler.

It was a big change.  A scary change (we are a one income family now).  I'm 23 years older than I was the last time I took care of a toddler.  I don't spring up from a sitting position like I used to.  I have to remember to bring my reading glasses for reading time.  And I think I take as many potty breaks as he does.

So that's what I'm doing now.  Playing.  Every day.  It's like recess for five hours a day.  

But that's not all.  I also started an online vintage shop.  If you click on the 'star' image that is titled EmmasHeritage, it will take you there.  I hope you like it.  

And I hope you like my new blog.  Thanks for catching up with me.