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As this marigold holds fast, a beacon of colour in an otherwise dreary day, it's container mates have started to rot.
A sure sign of autumn.
It is a dark, wet, windy day and I am feeling glum and unrested.
I took a rare, tiny nap this afternoon, letting the kids watch a show but this didn't really help in the over all scheme of things.
For some inspiration today I took my camera out as I did my yard chores.
It seems that summer has all but disappeared in this storm and in its wake we are left with the remnants.
I didn't get a chance to get in all my seeds and now it looks to be too late to even try to salvage any.
I started a fire.
I love the feelings it envokes in me. It brings me back to childhood, but again this solidifies the onset of fall.
I had had visions of listening to the rain hitting our new tin roof and enjoying our expanded kitchen space.
As week 3 rounds to a close we are left with tarps nailed to the roof, hoping they do not blow off in the wind and listening to it valiantly repel the rain from our home.
All our stuff still sits on our front porch now covered in a highly en vogue green tarp, all the rage this year around these parts.
The cats think it is a spectacular play zone.
I choose a coffee brown, much better than the luminous pearlesque silver that J thought would be ok.
No surprise really.
The flooring didn't adhere to the concrete in our rec room so we (and by this I mean J) had to scrap the entire surface and etch it with meratic acid and reapply the sealer.
Another 6 days down the drain.
And our stuff still sits,......did I mention in our living room as well.
The entire house has been shifted to accommodate this reno.
I do admit it hasn't been all that hard to till deal with.
Wwe have been stuck inside all day.
It makes for tights quarters I tell ya.
Almost like an insult, the tarp covering the roof flaps around noisily and drips endlessly onto the new foundation.
I notice this more than I should, so I thought I should mention it as well.
The yard animals are not so keen on the weather today either.
The chickens are soaked but hungry enough to brave the elements leaving the comfort of their perch to enter the mud ladened pen.
All the varieties scatter our yard.
If I had the gumption I would have taken the girls on a mushroom hunt.
I mean I had to fight the urge with all I had.
What stopped me?
The fact that I was in my ragged holey shoes and too lazy to have a mid-day bath afterwards.
They are inviting though.
They are inviting though.