Fall.....

I love fall. Always have, always will.

For some reason, fall always means a fresh start to me. I know that January is supposed too, but January feels like the halfway mark to me all the time. I've realized that in myself, I sigh a sigh of relief once August hits. August to December is the time of year that I love, and thrive. 

As a young Mom I canned, I preserved, I made jam, I froze produce, all in anticipation of the cozy winter months to come. Apples were chopped, grated, dried, and stored. Pies were made, berries were picked. Rhubarb was chopped. Pickles were made. All winter long we had muffins, pies, crisps, jam, and home canned fruit. Oh, and did I mention cinnamon? Mmmmm.... 

When the boys were little, it would mean breaking out the light toques, fleece coats and coveralls, warmer socks, and rubber boots. We would seek out pumpkin patches, wagon rides, fall festivals, and anything to supplement our own little pumpkin patch that we planted each year. 

As the boys grew up, the pumpkin patch still became a fun memory, but was different of sorts. Fall became more about cross country running, chunky sweaters, boots, family photos, and the busyness of school starting up. We used pumpkins and apples as a fundraiser for their school, and fruit runs to Davison Orchards became a big event!

What do I want for this fall? For time to slow down a bit. For the busyness that is our new life to just pause. I want to sniff the crisp air, take some long walks to enjoy the changing colours. To sit by an outdoor fire, wrapped in a blanket. 

I'm still doing some storing up for winter. I'm still loving hauling out the boots, sweaters, toques, and fleece. But it changes. There are no more runny noses to wipe.  There are no more rosy cheeks to kiss until they're warm. There are no more kids making a disaster of my leaf pile. Just big strapping boys who can chop and haul wood for hours. MENN who burst in the door asking what's for supper. Warm coffee, hot tea, apple cider, and hearty soups. The requests are for homemade buns and chowders or stews. 

Life marches on. We adjust to the new normal, but I'm still in love with fall. Still love the crisp air. Still inhale and exhale the beauty of colour..... And can I let you in on a secret? I may actually be starting to look forward to when Jody and I are empty nesters and can take off to the East Coast for the ultimate Autumn showdown.... 😏

Getting Back At It...

Wondering this morning if I'll ever figure this out. This happy medium between being authentic to who I am, and not caring what others think.

I censor. A lot. More then most can imagine. I hide, I clam up, I swallow my opinions. Most people don't get to see the real me, and I think I'm OK with that. I've been burned to many times. However, shouldn't we be able to just be? Respectfully? Hmmmm....

Social media is such a blessing and also such a joy killer. I'm wondering how many of us would enter an auditorium with all of our posts strapped to a billboard on our chest and still feel good about them.

There has to be a balance between being authentic, vulnerable, private, and true.

With families expanding, growing, changing, and moving so far apart, that poses a whole new set of challenges. We are related, we love, but other then blood, what are the common strands that make us family?

We all have family members that we've never met, and yet we'd expect to get along famously if we were all thrown into a big room together. We tend to want to forget that there are always political, moral, cultural, and faith differences amongst us. Building friendships is similar. It can all be going fine and dandy until something gets uncomfortable. How does a person truly just cover it in grace and love?

Which brings me back to my original thought. How do I stay authentic to who I am, blog from my heart, while finding the balance between vulnerability and too much?

Thoughts for today....

Blessings... 💝