So let me just preface this week’s post by saying that I am really sick of going down in the basement and looking through boxes whenever I need something. I spent hours last weekend bringing up everything I thought I would need for the next few weeks and then realized my sewing kit was downstairs. There’s another morning gone, but there was a needle and thread waiting for Emerson when she got home from school to hang up her apple stars.
So as I am digging through the boxes, I am thinking about the news I had just received from a friend–she is pregnant with her fourth child! Another friend just had her third, adding a boy to her two girls, and it just makes me want more. MORE!? Me, who has always only wanted two? Me, who just gave all her baby stuff away to a friend (loaned actually – so it is all coming back)? Me, who likes to travel internationally, spend time alone reading books, and go out and get pie-eyed? What?
I don’t really understand it either. Maybe it’s just a biological urge inside trying to brainwash me into propagating my species, but I really like the idea of having a third kid. It’s not that I have two girls and I want a boy. It’s just that I love having these two great people around so much, that having another human to add to our family just sounds fun.
Maybe these thoughts of other babies come with the season too. Autumn always brings a resurgence of all things domestic for us. Summer is always so crazy–running around, taking trips–and it was especially so for us this summer with our move. Fall is the time to regroup ourselves and gather up what we need for the winter. I guess this is especially true for us, now that we actually have a home.
Anyway…I’ll leave the third child debate for a moment, and move on to some things that I have been thankful for this week.
Things at the farm are definitely winding down for the season. The girls and I took our last trip up on Friday afternoon, and what a world away from those summer swims and raspberry picking sessions. All the summer vegetables are done, thanks to the killing frost, and we’ve moved into the season of root vegetables and greens. Even the pears have gone the way of warmer days. We took our last walk down to the field for the season, snacked on some rogue raspberries, and said goodbye until next year as we watched the sun shed it’s afternoon rays before it slipped behind the mountains. Having so many farms in area is such a blessing. Which brings me to another thing I’m thankful for…
************************ Apples *****************************************
We finally got around to making applesauce this week. Twice. 18 quarts in all, just shy of the 20 we made last year. We cooked up the bushel we picked two weeks ago,
and then went out for more. There is really nothing like the taste of an apple right off the tree. We cooked up some apple pancakes this morning, and still have a good mix left for a pie. Next year we are thinking of planting our own trees…
******************** Warmth *******************************************
What is better than coming out of a crisp fall day (or a freezing one–can you say “snow in October”?) into a nice warm home. I can’t think of too many things. I love the invigorating feeling I get from being outdoors this time of year, but nothing compares to a feeling of warmth. It seems that every day is getting colder and colder, and we keep going to that winter box and pulling out more and more. (We’re at hats and mittens now. Coats and boots are still sleeping…for now.) As I realize what we need–a wool hat for Ophelia, some sweater vests for the girls–I just sit for a minute and meditate on how lucky we are to have this feeling, both in body and soul, this warmth that penetrates us, and contrasts the coming darkness.
Not that we haven’t had our challenges with that over the last few weeks. The heat in our house is really uneven, and we still can’t figure out how to warm up the back bedroom. The seal is broken on our front door–you can feel the draft half way across the room. And the fireplace. Right.
When the girls and I pulled into the driveway after being outside at the farm all afternoon, I saw that Matty had started a fire in our–newly cleaned–fireplace. What could be better than that, right? I’ll only say this–as soon as I walked into the door my eyes started stinging from all the smoke in our house. Shortly afterward, the smoke alarm started going off. And then it really started going off, with a recorded woman’s voice saying “FIRE, FIRE…” Needless to say, opening all the doors and windows did not make for that warm evening by the fire I was hoping for. I had to put a sleeping bag over my down comforter that night, and Emerson had nightmares about the fire lady. And our house still smells like bacon.
But I’m still thankful. Heat is awesome. And soon we’ll get that pellet stove going…
So that’s where I’ll leave off for now. We got some stuff done house-wise. Matty finished the joint compound in the closet, and did half the bedroom ceiling. I was hoping it would be finished and all sanded down tonight, but oh well…
We were able to have a fire in the fire place this afternoon. We had to keep one of the glass doors shut, and it did get smokey after a few hours. Progress is slow at our house. We’ll figure it out sometime…
So yeah. Third baby? It would be fun. I even got Matty thinking about it. I told him we could see what other genetic mix we could make. Maybe a blond? But unless the bank makes an error and adds a few figures to our bank account, we’ll be waiting until the smoke clears. Or as Matty said, “our third one can be a blond–a golden retriever.”
Next week the girls and I are headed to Vermont to pick up the awesome clay paint we’ve ordered. And that pile of sticks above is going to turn into some skeleton bones for Emerson’s Halloween costume.