END of OCTOBER BLOG #8
I miss our good friends in LA most of all, and the Tennis Club. I am so happy we were lucky enough to live in and enjoy the Canyon for all those happy years, and I feel we made the most of it and really appreciated it. Fortunately, although I know I'll miss the canyon hikes in winter, the countryside here is divine in any season.
The purples and pinks of the heather and gorse on the heath have transformed, as Winter approaches, into swathes of russet, gold and green (as they are all evergreen). Elsewhere the countryside is decked out in flame reds, burnished coppers and all the rich earth colours from the deciduous trees, and the ground is thick with crispy leaves, which gusts of wind sweep up and swirl around, playfully.
It's not quite cold enough for gloves yet, but this morning my breath came in cloudy bursts as I walked the dogs in bright golden sunshine against a crisp turquoise sky. The field where the ponies graze was layered with a light silvery film of dew. When it gets colder that will become early morning frost and will shimmer and sparkle if the sun is out, until it melts. I remember when I was little, my mother would put washing out on the clothes line, and, if she forgot to bring it in at night, the next morning all the clothes would be stiff and frozen!
I think the ponies, which are the shaggy kind, belong to some travellers. I am not sure, but a hastily hand-painted wooden sign appeared recently, leaning against the fence, with the roughly scrawted words "dont put no aples in the feeld"!
I am putting raw sesame seeds and pine nuts out on the patio wall for "our" robin. He has started coming near the kitchen window each morning and looking at me sideways with his beady eye, almost as a signal that he'd like some food. I am sure the other birds are also feasting, but the it's the robin I see most.
We are hoping and hoping that Obama will get in. It is looking better now, isn't it? Can't imagine if he doesn't...let's not think about that.
It sounds as if your children are all getting a good grounding in street smarts, as you say. It's a good thing (as long as they're safe) to have that independence, too. It's just a shame they have to spend so long getting to and from school. That was something we really wanted to avoid in moving back here, and I think we have succeeded.
November 5th is fast approaching. That's Guy Fawkes' Night here. A big celebration, but not known in the US. It commemorates the thwarting of an attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder in the 17th Century by a certain Guy Fawkes (although now it is thought he may have been the scapegoat and others were actually the planners of the failed attack). Guy was burnt at the stake as a traitor, and the tradition on Nov 5th became for children to make a "guy" out of rags, old clothes stuffed with newspapers, and collect "pennies for the guy", with which they bought fireworks.
Now of course, safety regulations forbid the setting off of major fireworks, except with permits, but when I was a kid we had bonfire parties where brave dads would precariously set off fireworks in the garden and we'd have a bonfire. Invariable one of the rockets or catherine wheels would go off in the wrong direction (horizontally instead of vertically!) and we'd all have to dive for cover. We'd all drink steaming cups of tomato soup and eat hot sausages. It was always cold and misty, or damp, and there was an unforgettable smell of smoke and leaves and gunpowder in the air.
Nowadays you can still buy sparklers and small fireworks, but mostly people get together at public places and a huge bonfire is lit and fireworks set off. It's more of a community gathering. T's school is doing a Guy Fawkes evening in the field, so we'll go. Mulled wine and roasted chestnuts as well as the soup and sausages!
