Yesterday was dark and rainy--really dark--as the remnants of hurricane Florence moved up the coast. I was glad for the rain, because now I don't have to water my plants for at least a few days.

I drank lots of tea and finished reading The Forbidden Place by Susanne Jansson--so good! A spooky novel that is far more than just a story. So much to think about and record in my notebook.
 

Do you make these "Apple Babies" on autumn days? Peel and cut two apples into eighths. Cut crescent dough triangles (the refrigerator rolls) into two long triangles each and roll each triangle around an apple slice. Place in pan and drizzle half a stick of butter over all. Generously sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Pour a 1/4 cup of apple cider or orange juice in spaces around pan (not over the top of the apples/dough). Bake at 350°F for 25 minutes. They are too easy and addicting. 

September is the month for rose bouquets at my house. My rose bushes always go crazy in September--wild and huge and producing continuous blooms. I cut at least a dozen stems a week.

The September sky can be darkly moody or so blue and bright that it leaves me breathless. I love the sky so much.

 The days are growing shorter, the nights cooler. The in-drawing-cozy-time has come.

 

 

I have taken out this cardigan project I started last spring. I am only knitting on it a little each evening, but maybe I will finish it this fall. The color of the wool doesn't photograph well. It is a true moss green.

These two never stop making me smile.

 Zach stringing-up. Always there is music at my house ♪

I have said before that I think Presley is really a prince in a dog suit. Look at those eyes. So much love and kindness for everyone. Except for when the skunk sprayed him in the face a few weeks ago. He was all dog then.

 I can't remember the last time I watched television. I watch the birds and animals instead.

 Look closely now:

 And look who is watching from the fence!


Leaf fall has begun.The leaves are just beginning to lose their chlorophyll.

The pond is splendid with purple loosestrife, orange jewel weed, goldenrod, misty mauve love grass, and wild aster.

It has taken me awhile to get going, but we have finally started back to our home school lessons this week. I think it is the latest we have ever started. But, better late than never, right?   

Love and roses,
Sue

This pond, and the surrounding woodland, is the heart of the town where I live. It is an enchanted place that abounds with many stories and legends, some dating back to pre-colonial times when the water was known as Lake Innitou or Mirror of the Spirit by the Aberginian people. Over the years at least forty-five people have drowned there, which is astonishing considering that the average depth of the pond is about ten feet.

There have been many sightings of ghosts and other unexplained phenomenon at the pond.  One Native American legend claims that the pond was the ancient site of a battle between the gods of light and dark. The gods of light trapped the gods of dark in the water and drowned them. Some have seen mysterious blue lights floating over the water and in the woods. Last year, hundreds of fish washed up dead on shore. No one knows why.

Several local writers have collected the many legends and tales about the pond and the surrounding woods and hills of our town. Some of the best can be found in Marie Coady's, Woburn: Hidden Tales of a Tannery Town and Parker Lindall Converse's, Legends of Woburn (1642 -1892) [The full text of this book is available at the link.]
   

The pond is a place of remarkable beauty with some of the best bird watching in the area. I walk its wooded trails every day I can--it is my favorite spot on all the earth.⚘

 I have been thinking lately about stories and how they bind us to places and people. Perhaps it is the stories we hold in common, more than anything else, that imbue us with a sense of belonging and identity.

The digital age, with its emphasis on the individual, has led to solitary narrative building which has done much to unravel the old stories' cultural relevancy. Time will tell what effect this will have on us--both inwardly and outwardly. So far, I see a lot of  people desperately trying to find "themselves" (and a community) by grasping at each passing trend from simplicity to plant-based diets. Long ago, before fossil fuel made us magically mobile in our high speed trains, airplanes and automobiles, we were defined primarily by kith and kin. Kith referred to the land. The phrase "kith and kin" originally denoted one's geography and relatives. Out of those two elements sprang the ultimate uniting force: tradition--shared songs, stories, rituals, crafts, and folkways. 

Making my Great Aunt Clarabelle's scrumptious custard for banana cream pie.

My mother's dear friend Carol's braided Easter bread.

In these rocky New England hills bordered by the sea, I follow a path consisting of hearth, garden, woods/pond, and church. I never tire of this well-worn geography. Much of my time is spent in the kitchen making food for hungry people from "receipts" given to me by family and friends. There is so much love shared in recipes.

Despite weekly snow flurries, nature is slowly beginning to emerge from her slumber. On a recent pond walk, I saw a muskrat swimming in a vernal pool while the spirit of a birch tree watched on from one of his wise, old eyes. 

April ~ Pink Moon, so named for the wild ground phlox that blooms this month

Wyatt (gray) and Rhys (cream) turned 5 months old on April 6th

 

Last week I made a Hummingbird Cake from this recipe to mixed reviews. The frosting was excellent; we all agreed on that. If I ever make this cake again, I would double the pineapple and use half as much banana as the recipe calls for.

This past week there has been painting and knitting happening. Amy, Emmeline and I painted eighteen rocks the other day--little treasures for people to find on  the trail at the pond--as part of our town's "Kindness Rocks" project.

I'm knitting a peach colored, seamless yoked sweater and snowbaby bootees for my nephew's first little peach due in June.

If I'm honest, April has been a pretty miserable month weather-wise and otherwise, as well, with too many doctors appointments and generally low spirits; but, I know there are rose days ahead, and there is always, always plenty to be thankful for on a daily basis. ♥

Love and roses,
Sue

PS: My blog redecorating inspiration: Elaine, Sarah, and Lisa 

 

On Sunday we went to the beach and ran in the sand and looked for shells in our winter coats. The sunshine was dazzling and the sky was summertime blue. But today snow fell all day long, a thick white blanket--two feet thick. Typical weather for mid-March in New England.

So much time has passed since I last posted that I feel quite out of practice here. I don't believe in catch-up posts; how does one summarize the terrible beauty of life without being misunderstood? The story of today holds the past in its heart, anyway.

We have two new brother kittens who are currently making things lots of fun. ♥ (I hear them rumbling now upstairs in the girls' bedroom!) The cream and white one is Rhys and the gray and white is Wyatt. They were named after two characters in a story I wrote. Our pet tally at the moment is: two dogs, two kittens, two guinea pigs, three parakeets, one big bunny, and one very big snake. Oh, and two red hens in the yard.

I've been knitting little birds after my work is done (school and housekeeping and helping in the office for my husband's business) from patterns in the book Field Guide to Knitted Birds, by Carlos and Arne. The book is absolutely gorgeous and knitting birds is addicting--so many possibilities.

For breakfast on several March mornings, I've made Irish Soda Scones. I highly recommend this recipe. These scones are light and delicious with a lovely texture and authentic Irish soda bread flavor.

Love and roses,
Sue ♥