Greetings from the Stone House,
It has been awhile since I wrote to you. I’ve been remembering how lovely it felt to get a real letter from a friend. We used to have people called pen pals to write news and scribbles to, with blotchy looking exclamation points on lined or decorated paper. We hoped to discover a fat, stickers invested (I meant to say infested) 🙂 envelope in our own mailbox one day soon.
Today, let’s be pen pals.
As per propriety, I will start with small talk. How are you? And, I am fine. We’ve had rain.
Never mind, let’s cut straight to the chase. We have November now. But different. To date, we have not had even one frost. No frost. I wrote in my journal this morning, “soft and grey” for the weather report. By noon I could add, “sloppy”.
November used to be crisp air and crunchy underfoot. Not really snow much, although there could certainly be a skiff of it in the mornings for sure. When November is properly cold the grey part becomes sullen with a chill that creeps in under the doors. We should have skating by Thanksgiving day on an ordinary November in Northern Wisconsin.
Instead, we have what the weather people call the”effects of El Nino”. And I’m certainly not going to bore you with an explanation. I’m not a scientist.
I’m a northern girl remembering a typical November and sticking to the traditional vibe. I have a fire on the grate and a fresh pumpkin custard cake with strudel on top to bake. I will take it to someone who needs the reminder.
Believe it or not, I have a thick hardcover copy of Alcott’s Little Women on my sofa table. Right now, Amy is in Europe writing home to her family about her adventures. (Maybe that’s partly why this letter.) It had to have taken so many weeks for her letters to reach them. But if she wrote a little every few days; once the letters began to arrive at home they’d be keeping up. With a lot of lag time, right?
We don’t like lag time. We don’t like to use the time it takes to gather up pen and paper and stamp in the first place. So there’s texting. Yuck.
I received two or three, it was three!, real deal, hand written letters in my snail mail box the other day. It felt enormously special to me. The thing is, these letters last. I can go out to my desk this minute and pick up the very pieces of paper my friends wrote on and reread them. I can keep them. I can let them have them back someday if they need documentation or are collecting valid memorabilia. Letters are amazing.
Anyway, on to the news. It’s Monday and it’s raining. Elv is working at home today from his shop by the hour. And I am doing the after the weekend chores: dishes and laundry and scribbling. The house is clean and cozy. It’s a candles and soft music sort of day.
I just had a text from Lisl. “Can we do apples on Thursday?” Now there’s a true November quest and I’m on it. I ordered two new apple peeler thingies from Lehman’s so let’s hope they arrive soon.
We’re staying present the best we can with thoughtful eating and plenty of exercise. Who knew that 60 year olds needed to still work on good habits? What else did they not warn us about that’s headed our way? Maybe we missed it, they and we, because you couldn’t put that in a text and who ever writes letters anymore!
Have a lovely Thanksgiving. Arla
P.S. Speaking of no frost. Charlotte’s garden is waving full of zinnia, this minute! I am going to ask her if I may make bouquets for Jo’s house warming party this weekend.
