'Tis the Season

It's that time of year when the whole family gears up for a tromp throught the woods to pick out our Christmas tree. We make an afternoon of it, even if the perfect tree is "discovered" in the first half hour. This year Mathew spotted "The One". Once in the house it took up a good third of the living room, and it was in fact perfect. Just what we were looking for: natural looking but full. Not pruned within an inch of its life. Lots of room to hang ornaments. Just like the trees I remember my Dad bringing home...

Lest We Forget

This is the day we wear the poppy. To remember. To never forget that which we never want to happen again.

This Morning

My husband is a hunter. Hunting season is sacred. I don't try to book appointments, nights out, etc. after the last Friday of October. Period. It simply isn't going to happen.
For quality time together, either I join him, or more often then not, I stay home. To HE*double hockey sticks with freezing my buns off in the woods. But I do like autumn. The changing colours, the smell of wet leaves littering the ground... It was a beautiful morning after a night of rain. So I went for a walk through the woods with my hunting husband. Nothing got shot, injured or maimed in any way. Don't get all excited. Yes, that's me, looking like a total dork, drinking tea from a china cup and reading Harlot. In the woods. Quite the fashion statement, wouldn't you say? He didn't take too well to the way I was (not really) holding onto his rifle. I just didn't want to spill my tea or drop my book. Did we really need a picture to commemorate the moment? Our walk through crown land brought us to a chopping where we found that like shack. Figured it was a good place to stop for a break. And I was informed none too subtly that in the future the Harlot must stay home. Apparently my cackling (as he so unkindly put it) scares the deer away. But I just couldn't put the book down. I've been savouring it, reading it slowly, trying to make it last. Did you read the part about the one sock? Sooooo sad. Such a touching story. Harlot, you're my hero and inspiration.

Crescent Beach, Nova Scotia

I went for a walk on the beach this past Thursday. This time of year tends to be cold. I admit to a memory lapse considering the unseasonably warm temperatures. My walk on the beach reminded me in short order why my closet is well stocked with hats, mittens and scarves for every occasion. It was cold. Very, very cold. Weather in town was positively balmy in comparison. And a thought had crossed my mind that even the knitting in my bag was highly inappropriate. Yes, had it been anything other than a purple cotton sock for my daughter, I would have found some way to warm my ears with it. *sigh*

An Update

Wednesday, October 26th was a busy day. Shortly before 2pm, my niece was born. As a first-time Aunt, I am justifiably proud. Her name is Wiktoria (pronounced Victoria, Polish spelling). Mama and baby are doing well. And I have, once again, reason to knit cute baby things. I am beside myself with joy!

Same day, Mary Moo Cow was enjoying her final moments. It didn't look like she suspected a thing. Must have been the bowl of apples I was carrying. Note the tongue.
I present to you the "before" photo:















The "after" photo. This is today. I spent two and a half hours with my (gorgeous!) butcher and his lovely wife.

It was nice knowing you, Mary. At your best, you were entertaining. On your off-days, a royal pain. You will be delicious, I have no doubt.