A Busy Day and a Hygge Sort of Evening

The limestone screening is in, and the wheelbarrow has been lashed down under a tarp. The overflow pipe by the eavestroughs is duly capped. The handtowel rack is installed and the funky bath towel hooks are up. The sanctuary has been tidied for an upcoming birthday party. Three fake birch trees with lights on them have been set up in one corner for ambience. Groceries have been purchased. Dog has been walked. Kitchen shelves have been dusted. Garbage has been put out. Basement windows vacuumed out and window screens installed. Second coat of spackle has been daubed on (will sand tomorrow). A little work done on the computer. Short story reviewed and proofread for a friend. Chicken has been roasted and divided up for future meals, including a lovely soup that's simmering on the stove. 

It's now just after 5 p.m., and I'm sitting on the couch with Brio for a well-deserved rest. After such a productive day, I feel I can relax with a book (and a box of Junior Mints. Don't tell). The wonderful smell of chicken soup in the air. A very satisfactory evening!

Limestone Screening

The ground has settled around the areas where we had the foundations excavated and waterproofed, and somehow water is still getting in here and there, through the waterproofing, the cement wall, the spray-foam insulation, and the vapour barrier. So we've ordered a truckload of limestone screening, and I will spend the next couple of days schlepping it to build up the sunken areas and slant the ground away from the building. Won't be pretty, but it's a temporary fix until we can do actual hardscaping. 

The tricky bit is that it's been raining for a few days, and the screening arrived damp. I'm hoping it doesn't compact itself into cement before I can spread the pile around.

So much of my life seems to revolve around hauling aggregates in buckets and wheelbarrows. I'll tell you, though, these days I much prefer hard physical labour to sitting at a computer screen. You can actually see what you're accomplishing, and you feel deliciously tired afterward, every muscle used and appreciated. Then you feel you deserve to sit on the couch and watch Netflix with a bowl of popcorn, and you don't feel guilty about it because of the calories you just burned. You don't burn many calories sitting at a desk and wiggling your fingers.

Gray Day

It's decided to turn into autumn after all, bringing chilly temperatures and sporadic drizzle. I've run out of drywall compound for today, can't paint until the spackling is done, so projects have to wait. The perfect excuse to curl up with a blanket and book and Brio (the dog). Last week I binged on Jenny Colgan's book Close Knit, so this week I'm making up for it by reading sterner stuff: Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond.

Book Sale

Through the kindness of neighbours' donations, we are swamped with books for the Book Nook, so I'm holding a sale Nov 8-9 to make some space. All books $1 ea except kids' books, which are 50 cents. Fiction, non-fiction, cooking, sewing, travel, etc.

Apparently we live at the end of the rainbow

 

Thanks to neighbour Brenda for the photo! If you look closely, you can see a 

second rainbow arching above the other.

Morning Walk, Missed the Mist

I walked Brio around the conservation area this morning and discovered they've blazed new walking trails through the woods. Unfortunately, a lot of trees were felled to make way, but I admit it's nice having a new alternative for places to walk. Once you've been up to the ball park, over to the orchard, and around the lake, you've basically seen everything in the village, the gravel roads being too hard on Brio's feet. So now there's a new, lovely, winding way through the pines and walnut trees to explore. Though I suspect in summer, I'll have to wear a beekeeper's suit to fend off the mosquitoes under the pines!

The geese were starting to collect on the lake, gliding along the milky surface with the morning mist rising around them. I took Brio home and hurried back with a camera to take some shots, and though the geese were still there, the mist had burned away in the rising sun.  

Autumn coming

The trees are starting to turn salmon and crimson, just around the edges, as if Bob Ross has dabbed a little extra paint with a 3" brush. The intense heat has faded to a pleasant body temperature, so you don't get kicked in the face every time you open the door. Birds that have been solitary all summer have started to congregate, turning entire trees into noisy movement. The spiders are doing their best to infiltrate the church, and I keep finding tiny filaments of web in places I swear I just swept, I promise. The school buses grind past in both directions. Kids wait on the side of the road, backpacks on, kicking at the dirt, looking glum. The moms, meanwhile, gather on the street corners with their coffee mugs, their chat and laughter bouncing in the brightening air.

I love everything about fall, especially the food. The hickory nuts clicking into my bucket. That cidery smell of apples (I got ten pounds of Ginger Golds from Warwick Orchards to dehydrate). My sorghum is going through a little extra drying time in the dehydrator. The cherry tomatoes are spilling in fast. The kale's coming back for a second round in the garden. Jars of grape juice line the storage room shelves, shining like jewels. My only regret this year is that I couldn't find any decent crabapples to make jelly.

Autumn brings with it thoughts of books, blankets, apply betty, and hot chocolate. There's something about preparing for the winter that brings me sheer joy. I want to be Tasha Tudor when I grow up.

Photo taken from the internet. Apologies I can't attribute it to the photographer.