The Season Of My Discontent

They say fall is the season of change.  Everything dies or goes to sleep for the winter, ready to transform into new life in the spring.  It makes me tired and restless at the same time.  Just as some people suffer from light deprivation in a northern winter, I suffer from "What's it all about, Alfie?" in the fall.

As far as the eye can see, I  have masses and masses of these to deal with. ~

I mulch and rake and burn and they just keep on falling.  My seasonal disorder makes me hear the voice of one daughter who thinks I'm mad to live out here and never misses an opportunity to tout the wonders of condo living to me.  I tell myself she's right and it's ridiculous for a woman of sixty two to have all this property to care for by herself.

I've worked too much the last few months just to pay the bills around here.  It's a Catch 22 of working outside the home to keep it all going and letting things get into a mess at home or working around the property and being too cash strapped to do the maintenance that must be done.

Coops have to be cleaned, repaired and winterized and I wonder why I can't be a normal person that just goes and buys eggs in the store. ~

Docks have to be taken out and secured for the winter. ~

The river deck is a shambles of overturned furniture and lounge cushions that some enterprising animal has torn apart for their winter bedding.  All that foam has to be picked up by hand. ~

So, today I just want to run away from leaves, chicken poop and vomiting 26 yr. old cats.  I don't want to be responsible for so many pets or gardens or 200 year old houses.  It's like post par tum blues for seniors.

I do know the solution to my malady, though. Slow down!  I focus on driving the tractor around and around the yard to chop up as many leaves as I can, but I stop to take breaks and enjoy the nature that surrounds me.

Old Utah looks content as he sits in a pile of leaves.  I'm aware that this picture I will take is the story of the end stage of life for Utah and the leaves he sits amongst. ~

I remember to smile as the chickens run to follow the tractor and see what treats I have overturned for them. ~

Although the tractor is worrying me by constantly stalling, I stop to chat with a neighbour.  What's the point in living in a village if you can't take time to have a bit of a talk to them about their cat?

I try to be 'in the moment' and notice the things that make me happy, rather than focus on all that is wrong.

A garden ornament that is ageing beautifully ~

The sun setting over the river. ~

It makes me remember why I live here.  Lorraine Anderson describes me very well, in Sisters Of The Earth, when she says, "Nature has been for me, for as long as I can remember, a source of solace, inspiration, adventure, and delight:  a home, a teacher, a companion,".

I'll take November as 'me' time and do a little self nurturing.  ~

A sweater clad hot water bottle and a book are a very good start!