As they say, 'age is just a number.'
Just in case you missed the news, here's proof that I really did turn 80 in October. I received many much-appreciated cards, most arriving just before, a few a day or so late, even some on the actual day. No matter how one tries for the latter option, the postal service here, and now obviously across the pond, is totally unreliable. One should mail a card perhaps a month in advance of a special occasion and write a little note on the back of the envelope, such as "To be opened on......and the date." We won't even go into the postage charges these days - let's just say they are exorbitant, and the more they increase, which now is frequently, the service decreases and a lot of mail sometimes never even shows up. Sending mail with monetary enclosures has become a no-no as many are stolen. I had this happen when mailing a paper money Christmas gift to a young family member in England last year. Today, in a local newspaper story, a man was arrested, and is now imprisoned, after 500 pieces of mail containing over $30,000 in checks, gift cards, money orders etc. all stolen from North Carolina residents' mailboxes and Post Office mail boxes, were found in his home!
This unusual card arrived over a week after my birthday. It came from my family in France and although all international mail now goes by air rather than ship, it took 17 days to cross the pond by plane. Of course any fool knows that transatlantic flight takes less than 9 hours from most European airports. Wherever the card went before and after the flight took up the remainder of the time! I love this card and the fact that 80 is 13 in Scrabble tiles. . . . . . I'm a teenager again!
If you burn wood in a stove, or on the hearth as we do, you are probably out searching for firewood during these beautiful early November days. We received our annual delivery, a cord of neatly chopped and split oak and hickory wood, last evening, and this morning Bob headed into the back garden to stack the woodpile for the coming winter. Fortunately we had a little wood remaining from last year and last Saturday evening, being a cool one, we had our first fire of the season.
Changing over to using the fireplace that sat dormant since springtime when the chimney sweep came, is a bit of a palaver. Bob heads into the attic and brings out the fire screen, heavy metal tools, fire resistant hearth mat. Saved newspapers and fire starters fill the old olive basket on the hearth. Chilled rosé wine of summer is now a memory and a glowing bottle of Malbec is opened, poured and swirled. We clink glasses with a toast to the winter evenings ahead. I think this small annual happening can be classed as a memoir for us. It's part of the coming season where warmth and light in the home is important. It brings thoughts of holidays ahead with family and friends. Sometimes we sit by the fire enjoying the patterns in the flames, with a mug of chocolate, perhaps a bowl of homemade soup. . . . . or another glass of warming wine.
Still in the throes of autumn here in the southeast, the days are warm and long hours of sunshine strong and extremely bright. Now the earlier sunset of daylight savings time changes the garden colors quickly. The leaves are falling and the canopy of trees is taking on a lighter look. The moon is visible in the early morning sky. Birds are returning to the feeders and bird baths, and squirrels look chubby and healthy in their winter fur coats. Winter months can be bleak. Many loathe the cold days and even colder nights. A blazing, crackling wood fire on the hearth is a way to make those times delightful . . . . . . . along with a hot water bottle perhaps.
But that's another story . . . . . . .another memoir!
. . . . . . . . and here it is, Bob's woodpile completed.
Looking forward to many warm hearthside nights ahead.
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