AND NOW IT'S REALLY AUTUMN

This morning I looked up from my review of vintage holiday magazines to see falling snow. Our mid-morning temperature is 34. The lawn is strewn with leaves and pine straw. I want to say the snow won’t stick – and it won’t -- but looking out beyond the barn, I see whiteness in June’s field. The fog creeps in and moves through.

I walked down the lane before dark yesterday to pick a few remaining apples from the little tree under the pine. Alas! They were gone – every last one. Mike checked the Italian prunes – likewise gone. The 2012 season of jelly-making from the fruit of the land is over – and me with jars in waiting on the shelf. Of course, I can always buy apples and pears and oranges if the spirit moves me to process more fruit.

“How did they do it?” asks Mike, speaking of the family that lived in this house from the time it was new (1917) until my grandmother passed away in 1957. Mike points out that even though it’s chilly today, it’s not really cold, but they endured some cold winters. We’re cozy with a fire in our fireplace insert, the house having been insulated in the remodel process.

Well, I recounted, the cook stove in the kitchen had a fire from morning till night. And there was a wood-burning stove in the dining room, which my dad replaced with an oil-burning stove in the ‘50s. The old fireplace in the living room was well-used, but in later years they closed the pocket doors and Grandma lived in the dining room. And, Grandma left here and traveled to visit relatives in the fall and winter. You know, in the days of the train, it was easy to travel from Orofino to Portland and points beyond. I know she visited her sisters in Drain, Oregon, and also her son, Earle, in Idaho Falls. It’s not that those locations were warm, but the homes were undoubtedly equipped with better creature comforts. And perhaps it seems warmer when you share with those you love, especially when it's not the busy season. KW