Category Archives: autumn

yellow

yellow
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Our neighbourhood goes yellow.

One street over they go red.

I am envious of the red.  But my envy makes me angry at myself.  Why not embrace the yellow?

The orange is a petal from our poppie patch.  

Everything has been blown away now.

I miss the yellow (never happy). 

 

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summer saved

summer saved
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It was picked in September, part of a game the kids were playing with friends.  Somehow I ended up with it (given to me or left behind).  I had it on the dash of the car for a day or two.  Then I pressed it.

Memories of summer.  At the orthodontist yesterday with my daughter, we booked for another appointment in nine months.  That would be July.  

It’s not that I’m not a fan of autumn.  And Christmas and the first snowfall and chilly days and comfy nights.  New boots and mitts.  No weeds.  

But the thought of July – made me ache for summer again.

When each season passes, it seems like such a long time since it’s been here.

 

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tree out front

tree out front
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We have a tree out front and the seeds it produces are hard little balls attached to the leaf.

I guess officially it’s not our tree – it belongs to the city.

I think this leaf, this seed is fascinating.  I try to search it out on the web but get nowhere.  

Friends come for dinner and when I suggest to one that I am mystified as to the kind of tree that grows out front, he immediately stands and asks me to point him in the direction of said tree.

I open the front door.  He doesn’t even step outside.

“Linden tree,” he says.  ”Genus Tilia.  Also known as the American Oak.”

Later he and his wife kick our asses at Trivial Pursuit.

 

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stolen pumpkins

stolen pumpkins
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I’d bought a big one on Thursday.  When I came home, I got ride of the dying chrysanthemums (is that what they were?) from the front porch. 

I had two smaller pumpkins already, so arranged one on the white table and the other beside the big one on the top stair.

Simple.  Perfect.

We were at a post Thanksgiving celebration all Saturday.  Sunday morning I grabbed the paper and shut the door again.  

That afternoon I looked out front.  Both smaller pumpkins were gone.  There was just the big one.

So I wondered:  Who steals pumpkins? Why the smaller two?  I went for a walk around, maybe the guts of both would be spread across the road.  That happened to us in Toronto one year.  But nope.

We’ve lived here nine and a half years.  I have never had a pumpkin stolen.  Some might think that’s a great track record.

Instead I think, shit.  Someone came up on my porch and stole two pumpkins.  Petty. Weird.  Disheartening.

The pumpkin stands alone.  

Happy fall.

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mosaic

mosaic
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I had two old espresso sets and a tired table.  I’d been meaning to do this for years.

I put some cups and saucers in a big plastic box and shook.  It scared the crap out of the cat.  It was pretty loud.

Then I took the smaller pieces out.  Added more cups and saucers, did the same.  Did it again, and again.

I spread grout and added pieces of china.  I had a ball.

The grout was a bit thick, took days to dry hard. 

The table sits on my porch between green white and blue striped chairs.  I look out and I see the smiley bits of espresso set in a come hither design.  Adds some sparkle to the approaching grey days.


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wreath

wreath
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It leaves the odd plastic Halloween pumpkin scattered across the front porch and lawn on windy days.

I waited until October 1st to start the fall/Halloween festivities.  There is a spider in its web on the other door’s window.

I haven’t seen a lot of piles of big pumpkins.  Is there a shortage this year?

Our homegrown pumpkin sits majestically in the backyard now. 

It’s the tall one on the right.

 

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tree

tree
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Our backyard tree.  It has decided to change leaf colour from the outside in.  Remains green inside.  Like the dark/grey roots coming in on my head except the opposite.

This tree looked near dying nine years back after my husband dug its big hole and stuck it in.  He always felt he hadn’t done it right and watched it carefully after that.  The next winter little animals started devouring its bark. 

We covered it with plastic and netting.

It is a symbol of strength and beauty.  To which we all aspire, I guess.

 

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helmet

helmet
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A few weeks back, I wake up with a headache that feels like I’m wearing a really painful hat or helmet and I can’t get it off.

This fall has been hell on my sinuses.  Such a beautiful season and September so very lovely and I’m sniffling or stuffed up or so thick I can barely breath.  Then the headaches.

My children get themselves ready and out the door (a huge help) though I do stand in the driveway in my housecoat, looking down to the end of the street to make sure they meet up with friends safely.

Then I sleep.

 

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Badge of Awesomeness

Badge of Awesomeness
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School starts and my son rides his bikes with two friends. After school, joined by my daughter, they invent a new game.

It is the Badge of Awesomeness game.

One kid is The Administrator and tells the other three what ten things they must do to achieve their Badge of Awesomeness.  The three kids, ready on their bikes, must do things like ride around the block three times or jump off their bikes and run around the house backwards twice.  They ride down the side of the street and must touch the leaf of each maple tree.  They recite the alphabet really fast.

Next The Administrator collects three leaves, hands one out to each of the participants and says they must find the tree to which this leaf belongs.

What else?  They clap out Oh Canada, they draw an image of that administrator in chalk on our driveway, they make three baskets, they hula hoop, they race.  When they make it to level ten, they are given their Badge of Awesomeness.  Then someone else gets to be The Administrator.

The week is beautiful, blue-skied and yellow sunned. 

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