In the meantime, we passed the pumpkin patch held every year by the Southern Hills United Methodist Church Youth Group. I got my small pumpkin and she picked one she could hold in her hand. Here's mine.
I sat out on the porch one evening and made the honeysuckle wreath. It's only about 12 inches across and took about one hour to cut the vines then weave it. The crock is a Love Field crock that I use to corral my garden gloves and saw and pruners. The lid is from a small enameled roaster which I began using to keep the rain off of my tools. I didn't realize how many crocks I've acquired. I can't say collected since I don't actively look for them - just take home the ones that occasionally come into my life. I'll take some photos one of these days.
We've had wonderful weather this week. I've worked outside in the coolness and can hardly make myself go inside at the end of the day.
One of the things I did was to set up my tent. Steve and I each had a backpacking tent - mine a Marmot Swallow and his an Exped Sirius Extreme. I wasn't sure I would remember how to set up mine since it has been such a long time since I've used it. I managed to do so and was lying in the tent, watching the sky through the netting on top and enjoying the cool breeze, when a granddaughter came looking for me. I think she wondered what I was doing. I didn't explain.
The last time I used my tent was one November at Quartz Mountain State Park in southwestern Oklahoma. There was only one other camper on the grounds so we had the park pretty much to ourselves. It was a wonderful place to be. Drought had, for several years, lowered the water level in the lake by about 10 or 15 feet and we were amazed at the markings on the rocks.
That was also the only time I've ever heard a bird fly.
We were up early one morning and climbed a cliff path to sit on the top and wait for the sun to come over the horizon. We were quietly sitting when I heard the softest noise and moved my eyes around to figure out what it was. A bird - don't know what kind - went by within a few inches of my face and I heard the swish-swish-swish of the air as it went by. That was a once-in-a-lifetime moment!
The 11th of this month will be the 5th anniversary of my husband's death. Moving on? There is no such thing. That implies leaving something behind and I have no desire to do that.
