Wednesday, October 1, 2008

A picture perfect day here in Central Illinois where I have already been out to gather our ripe tomatoes that my husband and I will "put up" and perserve for the coming winter. There is nothing like the fresh taste of tomatoes in chili, speghetti, and other tomato dishes throughout the cold winter months. The frost is not yet on the pumpkin, but it is getting closer as I enjoy cool crisp mornings. The geese are flying, already feeling the chill of early frost, and the coming winter. I am always a little envious of these flying geese, and wonder why I too cannot just up and fly to a warmer climate. I guess in the overall plan of nature, we did not get everything, did we!!! In the meantime, we will remain here in the midwest, perhaps to live and survive on our farm out in the country if the economy continues to "go south" with the birds. We are already envisioning a very large garden, and wood enough to keep us warm. It has a nice nastalgic ring to it, but then again... 

Sunday, September 6, 2008

This is the Sunday to begin our year-long "slug fest" on the porch. Every Sunday, friends come over with The New York Times, and we sit around on our screened porch, drinking coffee, and reading the newspaper. We usually fight over the book review section, and avoid all things sports. We are more interested in the latest writer than words from the newest politicians, and love to see artists of any hue written about for us to savor. Today, along with the Tanzanian coffee that my brother sent to me, I will serve waffles with fruit. The weather is 70 plus degrees beautiful with a slight breeze. Could heaven be any more wonderful? We certainly can find these heavenly spots here on earth, can't we.

September 4, 2008

On Tuesday, the day after Labor Day, reality hit home with a hammer as we maneuvered our way south from Michigan, through Gary, Indiana, the home of the worst traffic in all the U.S. As we were just exiting Michigan (of course), we were stopped dead in a three mile one lane line of cars, trucks and semi's inching their way along. Mike and I had a good "book-on-tape" and also our stash of candy that we only allow ourselves in these situations, so it was not too bad. Ninty plus degree heat hit us along with one hundred percent humidity when we walked into our house, and the dream and image of the cool, breezy porch in the woods at Portage Lake was just a memory for another year. Darn! But, packing up and going north again next year is what often keeps us going day to day here, so we carry this image in our minds like the Irish poet William Butler Yeats in his poem "The Lake Isle of Innisfree" when he writes the famous lines,

"I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the water lapping with low sounds by the shore
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray
I hear it in the deep heart's core." (1892)

I too hear the waters of Portage Lake and Lake Michigan lapping gently along the shore, and knowing that I can return again is what keeps me happy all year long.