I'm looking at brown - brown tree limbs, brown leaves dangling and then letting go to drift slowly down to carpet the grass. The same grass bare of leaves just a few days ago. Only the sky differs, and it's gray and heavy with another bout of rain.
A hint of green lingers on the grass but will disappear all too quickly.
I'm not fond of this season; I just want to curl up under flannel sheets with a steaming cup of coffee by my side and just read. Mostly, I inhale books that provide mindless entertainment, the type that I send tumbling to the floor when I fall asleep and roll over. The type that when I pick them up, it doesn't matter if I find the "right" spot, because I won't miss much if I don't. Somehow, they're soothing at this time of year.
Right now, those flannel sheets tumble in the dryer, shedding lint like a dog leaving a trail of fur. I love these sheets, soft and rich to the touch, and ready to cocoon me in layers of warmth. But, being new, they take what seems like forever to dry.
Downstairs, traces of last night's homemade turkey soup linger. Each time I wander into the kitchen, the aroma teases my nose and taste buds. I know I can grab another bowl for lunch, and I just might do that. It's more than a bowl of soup; it's all the love that Phil put into this past summer's herbs, the slow and steady mincing of fresh veggies, and the patient wait for it all to blend into something wonderful. Good things really do come to those that wait.
Last Friday, the infamous "Black Friday" that will find me anywhere but a mall, we went a wandering in Virginia's wine country. A Facebook write up intrigued me, inviting me to "walk off my wobble" by climbing a small hill, grabbing a ticket to prove I'd made it to the top, trotting back, and then claiming a house made truffle. I can assure you that the truffle was well worth my climb!
And, I have to fess up, that Phil and I had avoided this winery for the longest time, visiting several others in the area instead. For some reason, its write up had me thinking that it leaned toward the snobby side. (We've inadvertently landed at some of those!), and blue jean clad me wanted to be able to relax...and to afford some wine! 868 Estate Vineyards...doesn't that name sound snobby?...pleasantly surprised us. It has an onsite restaurant to be explore later, but also tons of picnic tables for casual (and inexpensive!) fun, and just a great friendly air about it. The "868" turns out to be the elevation of where their new tasting room will be built, and where we had to climb to claim our truffle. So, a good lesson learned: First impressions aren't always spot on.
I'm meandering here, but then so are my thoughts. Some of them are working on convincing me that it might be a good idea to get at least one set of my physical therapy exercises done. Other thoughts, and rather louder thoughts, take great pleasure in reminding me that I'm going to hurt when I'm done. And, then the first thoughts come back and chortle, "No pain, no gain!" So, at some point, I'll great my teeth and get them done.
Okay, self, it's time to wrap this up. The dryer's buzzing impatiently. Floors desperately need vacuuming and mopping or both.
And those damn exercises need to be done.