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Sunday, August 23, 2020

Red Oak House Notes No. 63: Hints of Autumn

"There's a bright golden haze on the meadow!" 

Oklahoma, Rodgers and Hammerstein

Jim burst into song this morning (pro tip: ask him to sing "Moon River") when we agreed that not only are there hints of autumn at Red Oak House, but also haze in the air caused by the combination of smoke from western fires and dust from the drought. I'll leave it at that. 

The pollinators and birds are visiting our yard and I'm hoping for cooler weather so I can ride my bike. And for rain. And looking at the local paper at the comics to keep my spirits up while I watch Jim harvest the tomato and we fret about our water bill. On the bright side, I've not cut the grass much this year. We are listening to and watching the debates about students returning to schools and colleges. 






















Before we know it we'll be cutting back the vegetation before winter and harvesting raspberries and then.... having a fire in the woodstove and digging out our winter gear and tweaking the sprinkler system so as not to waste water and other fall projects we are accumulating on our "to do list". Jim has already started "scouting" for Canada Geese and we are adjusting to not having a dog in our household and walking our neighborhoods to observe changes over time. 

But I'm trying to not get ahead of myself as the seasons change. Don't even get me started on the nonsense that my phone calendar automatically shows US holidays has "Black Friday" as a "holiday" (consumerism created that one or bargain shopping, depending on your perspective on any given year). I'm old enough to remember Blue Laws debates and I just got around to removing the UK holidays from my phone calendar in July! But Guy Fawkes Day is staying there. 

Oh and sorting. I'm still sorting. My Mother and I make jokes about that on regular occasion. Yesterday I tackled our collection of magnets and t-shirts. I hear baseball 2020 is back on, in a weird way. The Twins comes up at our house and the family debates on baseball begin. Mother loves the Dodgers from the time we lived in California. But that is another story for another time. 


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