Around here, we have very little leaf color. We go from dreadful heat to cool, with a few cold days during the middle of winter. I’m not a fan of summer. I know . . why am I living in Texas? What I told Vince from the day we got serious about our relationship was “I’ll move anywhere in the south except Texas!” You see how much he listened to me! 🙂
Over the weekend, our temps were up in the 90’s . . upper 90’s I think. Then Monday night, our low was in the mid-40’s. It was cool all day yesterday . . the kind of day when I can say I love being here. There’s so much to love . . I can even live with the snakes and bugs, but the heat . . that’s tough. Fall is my favorite season. Summer has ended . . or is about to end. We’ll have more hot days but they won’t stay. I don’t mind winters here. Even though spring is beautiful, I know what’s coming next and the dreaded heat makes it hard for me to enjoy spring.
When I went out Monday evening, the cool front was moving in and everything was so beautiful. I always look for shapes in the clouds. On the far right, just above the treeline, I see someone with open arms. I thought . . that’s me welcoming fall. Looking at the picture last night, they look like claws. That’s me trying to get away from Texas and it’s holding me back. 🙂 Yes, I have a vivid imagination!
The tomato stakes are still standing in the garden. The weeds have taken over every part of the garden. It was a good garden this year. I don’t plan to have a garden next year but . . never say never.
Even the chickens are probably appreciating a little respite from the heat. I know chickens aren’t very bright but I wonder if, from winter to the next, they remember what cold weather is like or they walk out one cold morning and think it’s a totally new experience. They say the heat is much harder than the cold on chickens but . . cold in Texas isn’t like cold in Minnesota.
Our little house reminds me of my grandparents’ home. It has a big front porch, a metal roof, a chimney. Of course, my grandparents didn’t have an antenna for the internet and whatever else we have up on that pole. I wonder what our grandchildren will have that we don’t even dream about these days.
As much as I loved being at my grandparents, the evenings . . about dusk . . always made me sad. That’s when I missed being home with my parents. My grandparents always worked very hard and went to bed before dark. I am, and always have been, a night owl. My best memories are of times spent at my grandparents’ home. The evenings here, just about dusk, always bring back those precious memories of time spent at their farm. I’m so thankful for those memories and I wonder how my life would be different if I had not developed my love of rural living, gardening, chickens, crafts, cooking . . the things I learned from my grandma.
Winter will be here before we know it. That big fig tree in the distance will be bare. Depending on how cold the winter is, or isn’t, new leaves may sprout up from the branches in the spring, or all that wood may be dead and new growth springs from the roots of the fig tree.
Our poor mesquite tree. I used to say we had mistletoe in our mesquite tree. Now I say we have mesquite in our mistletoe tree.
Life is good! As much as I whine about being in MO, I believe my roots here are growing deeper and deeper . . maybe deep enough that I’m here to stay. It’s easy to want to stay in fall and winter; summer . . not so much!