Thanksgivings

Our heater decided to stop working the other evening… we tried turning on our gas fireplace to warm up the house, but strangely, it wasn’t working either… then, we closed the door to our bedroom, went to sleep under heated blankets, and spent the most wonderful, cozy night ever.  In the morning, outside our bedroom the rest of the house felt freezing, as if the doors to the outsides had been left opened throughout the night. 

The heating and cooling systems guys came by that following morning around 10, and had everything working again.  The house started warming up slowly, but steadily, while my favorite music filled each room with the peaceful tales and musical tones of the Native American flute.

I watered and fertilized all my plants after that, making sure those that require the more humidity got properly misted too.  They are all doing wonderful, but trying to keep these many plants alive during our dry cold winters is not easy, I can tell you that...

Then, I decided to bake something extra yummy! Spinach and artichoke Puff Pastry Pinwheels!

And of course, a cup of coffee in a sprinkle of cinnamon to go with it too! 

 

What is it about cold weather that makes you want to bake?  Do you feel that way too?  Later, after I finished my morning snack I went upstairs to ‘declutter’ my gypsy room a bit…

I am super excited these days, because our Florida family will be spending an entire week with us this Thanksgivings—a miracle, I’d have to say!  You see, on all those long and forgotten past years since we lived here in the house in the roses they had never visited during our cold weather seasons.  In fact, this will be the very first time ever my sister Lissette and her husband will visit our northern home... she has a serious problem flying you know, and had never set a foot on an airplane again since that day an eternity ago when our little family came to the US from Spain.  She might have to be drugged to get here, but hopefully she’ll be fine.  We need a lot of prayers I can tell you that much!

She and her husband will be sleeping in our main guest room, but Papi (dad) will have to stay in my gypsy room the poor guy! Lol  

We bought two top mattresses, and made a daybed out of an old couch.  It feels super comfortable, and I know that because I've already slept there!  So I hope he'll like it too!

It feels so comfy and homely here, and I love it!  I love my bed placed against the wall.  Our bed in our master bedroom is nothing like that, but ever since I was a little girl I've always felt more secured and sheltered when my bed is placed against the wall.  I tend to sleep better, and I don't know why that is.

I don’t know how dad is going to take it, but I have a feeling that sleeping under the watchful eye of Frida Kahlo all night long it isn't going to be of his liking… 

...neither would be having to live among so many plants... all that amount of plants I had winterizing there!  Thus, I felt obliged to take part of my dear geraniums out and just let them succumb to the merciless cold nights outside.  What pity, but I didn’t have any other place to put them.

Is your Christmas tree up yet?  Have you been decorating for the holidays already?  I'll be super busy coking and washing lots of dishes for the entire next week, and possibly more because some of our kids are coming too!  But how very blessed I feel.

Is a sacred, joyful time of the year, but also a time of bittersweet moments too, and I already know that there will be moments when all of the happiness, all of the magic of these blissful hours will flow together into these stirring, bittersweet memories and will flow away, becoming temporal and transitory once more.  I miss you so much mom.  Nothing will ever be the same without you anymore.

Winter is here

We woke up this morning to our first frost of the year.  Shrubs and rose bushes were covered in tiny particles of ice, and the delicate vines looked something like frozen spinach out of the freezer.  I’m afraid that my daily strolls through the garden have come to an end for now, and sitting outside to observe Nature for hours while I let sunshine dowse against my skin, is done too.  I must not forget, thought, that I still have the warmer hours of the afternoons to enjoy, cozy blankets and the firepit.  So from time to time I will still come out here to refuel and count my joys.   

The sky, too, is growing darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of winter nights.

The mourning doves resembling angels—extravagant and silvery and magical have been coming to the garden every day...

...to feed off the garden's floors and serenade my life.  

And the chickadees and juncos keep foraging the garden for food too; almost invisible against the red autumn leaves scattered in colorful dreams along flowerbeds.  Can you find them?  

How lovely the days are, how beautiful Nature and the time spent nurturing my quiet soul with visions of the undisturbed beauty found in my natural surroundings… simple things, big sentiments, a whole lot of joy in small occurrences. Oh, let us never forget that whatever we are waiting for - peace of mind, contentment, grace, the inner awareness of simple abundance - it will surely come to us, but only when we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart.

Peace and blessings to you, my friend!~

November

Nov 2—we were in Florida visiting some very dear people last week, and when we returned home this past Wednesday the evening of Halloween Day, I could almost believe what I was seeing… no, not a witch or globin or a pirate or scary clown to be seen, but instead, a totally different view from what we had when we left, just a week before.

Every tree had been stripped off their lovely colors; not a single leaf remained on naked branches and pools of autumnal leaves were blowing off to unknown faraway places.  Winter, had settled in.  The neighborhood was lighted up in Halloween décor, and some of the houses were already decked in Christmas lights.

The following morning, I headed out to the garden as soon as I woke up. With night coming early, and dawn coming late, it was still dark outside, but I could tell that the garden had begun its rest until next spring.

How beautiful, and strange, everything looked, and how solemn under the mysterious spell of the new month... 

Pale amber sunlight started to fall across the thinning November garden, and I noticed that the bitter-sweet melancholy of the year had settled upon the land; as yellowish tints of light move along the garden’s floors, and scattered shadows everywhere.

I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the morning sky--part of it pink, part lavender part pale blue. Small, fluffy clouds like cotton balls scuttled along in a wordless melody, of wonder and admiration. How beautiful; how very beautiful the garden looked beneath the sweet gentleness of the autumnal morning. I heard an angel say once that God wants our souls to be like the autumnal morning...

Some of the roses were still intact, as if frozen in time, or frozen in past summer memories engraved in the apple of my eyes.

Petals mingled beautifully with autumnal leaves in the garden floors, like an assortment of jewels spilled from some magical coffer...

Oh, I don’t want time to pass; don’t want seasons to hurry, roses to fade nor winter to wither all the loveliness remaining here; but then again… ah yes! “Nature gives to every time and season unique beauty; from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, it’s just a succession of changes so soft and comfortable that we hardly notice the progress." — Charles Dickens

Autumn glories

Except for the sounds made by the Black-capped chickadees and sparrows foraging for food among the fallen leaves, no other sound stirs the garden these days; only the peace of small wonders and the muffled hum of Autumn softly falling upon the earth, and my soul has adopted the mellowness and language of the season.  

One day, I went to the garden, and found my little world covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon, as Autumn's fire burned slowly along garden paths and day by day leaves changed, and fell, and melted.  

The front of the house was a riot of pumpkin-yellow leaves a week ago, and trees everywhere had painted the world in brunt aquarelles and were every day dropping off their jewels, covering lawns and gardens and roofs in silky sheets of crimson and cerise.

In the magical light of dusk, diminutive organisms like beams of light, tent to appear out of nowhere, you can see them everywhere gently floating in the atmosphere; gleaming and twinkling—will-o'-the-wisp, some call them. It’s been said, that these atmospheric ghost lights are only seen by travelers at night, especially over bogs, swamps or marshes.  But of course, here in my magical garden, they can be seen too.  I can't tell what they really are, but I can certainly see them, and they resemble flickering lamps.

It must be the October magic that still lingers… the same magic that makes us tiptoe outside in a hurry in the middle of the day to just sit quietly; daydream, and watch the last oozing hours of the day go by under magical, shadowy veils of mist.