Just Hanging On
Sitting on the patio this morning after a good walk the dance of the leaves has begun. The small maple leaves that came out early are the first to do their dance in flight. The leaves with the clear blue background evoke many fall seasons such as this.
My favorite fall seasons were the ones on the farm in Renville County. Having Carrie and Kevin follow me around the garden as we rounded up the last of the harvest was pretty special. Tomatoes were off limits. Way too much squeezing going on there. Of course we had left some cucumbers get too ripe for canning, but they sure made a huge pile in the red wagon to be trundled off to the chickens. Carrie didn’t like the flutter of the chicken’s wings and Kevin didn’t need to inhale the dust so the doorway was as far as they got and mom got to spread the goodies out to the chickens.
We had a great fruit cellar and the red wagon came in handy for hauling the squash. Our favorite was the Acorn squash. Two of those halved and baked with a bit of brown sugar and butter . . . yum.
There are so many aspects of that farm that I miss, but the fall of the year was just the best and because of those memories I savor the days ahead. My mind’s eye allows me to put aside the hours of hard labor that the farm life required. It didn’t seem all that bad or that hard at the time. It was just one day at a time.
Being on Stauffer Avenue is such a turn around from the farm days. I now have the time to refresh my memories at will. There is no garden to clean out as our shady yard says no to that. The perennials are showing signs of being 
weary of putting on their show. The grass is slowing down and the lawn mowers are breathing a sigh of relief. I think my ole cowboy feels the same way. Out in back is the last vestige of a lone snowball bloom. It’s either a late comer or has its seasons mixed up. It’s just like me . . . hanging on to see what comes next.