It's the shoulder season of fall, and that means that we have both fresh flowers:
On the table.
And on the bookcase.
Plus the ones I put together just yesterday.
And fire:
The first fire of the season, yesterday morning.
I had a heck of a time getting that fire going, thanks to the fact that it looked like this outside.
That's not fog. It's a cloud, and our elevation is high enough that we were just in it.
Everything was damp, there was no draft, and every time I opened the stove to check on the fire or add wood, it just billowed smoke out. It was very unpleasant. I did get it going eventually, though.
The morning before, it was 59 degrees in the house. That would have been a good morning to have a fire, but all the wood was wet from being in an untidy pile outside on the ground, where it was dumped when it was delivered unexpectedly on Monday.
The kids went to work yesterday afternoon, though, and had it all stacked within a couple of hours. They were helped in this endeavor, amusingly, by our priest. He came to dinner and was very eager to help stack wood. I suppose he appreciates such a straightforward, physical task, that is so unlike what he usually has to do.
We are happy to oblige him by providing labor.
On Michaelmas, we had fire and flowers together at breakfast. Our usual candles were joined by our St. Michael candle--these are readily available at any grocery store in New Mexico--and the youngest boy's St. Michael keychain that he carries in his pocket every day.
A very liturgically appropriate breakfast table.
Continuing the religious theme, I was amused to see that Poppy's brown scapular that she wears every day under her shirt was perfectly framed by the opening in the back of her shirt yesterday.
I spy with my little eye . . .
Another back shot for Poppy so I could show her what her hair looked like before Mass on Sunday:
Big bow on a looped braid.
There you have it! My life, snapshotted.
