Tuesday, November 8, 2011

the sun will be up soon. edgar is restless this morning, ready to wander around the lake. but i'm waiting for the sun. i was happy to get the morning sun earlier this week. it found my face as i was getting ready by the mirror yesterday. a perfect little dissection, bouncing through the triangle of windows until it landed softly on my eye. it felt special enough to take photos.
the studio was busy yesterday. my parents came to clear up the gardens while i kept the sewing room humming. my father snuck up to the roof (he's almost 74 and i hate him on the roof, but thankfully he still has his surgeon's steadiness) to clean the eavestroughs and secure a loose shingle. i can't complain about the wonderful clean up they did, but i also can't really look at the yard. the abrupt change is too much for me. it's naked and bare and stripped and empty. i love the wildness that happens in my gardens, and i miss the tangle of growth that weaves all along the little white house. and now it's shorn and tidy for the winter.
crabby is still with uncle d'arcy. yesterday morning he thought we should take another day to see if we could find a way for her issues to improve. so this morning we will wrestle with the decision.
and the day is an early morning gray now, so edgar and i will soon head out.


  1. Hello:
    We do understand the sudden change which is brought about in the garden when it is, so to speak, put to bed for winter. But you are very fortunate to have your parents not only willing but also able to help, which we are sure they enjoy doing, as it does save you a great deal.

    However, notwithstanding what you say, your father does need to be careful on the roof!!

  2. Lovely post Annette.

    I used to worry about my f-i-l every time he climbed upon the roof to clean out gutters or to check out the roof. He too, was about 70 at the time. The sons finally decided to take his ladder because of the worry. Once, I remember he climbed up on the roof and while he was up there my m-i-l left for an errand which left him alone on the roof. When she returned, he was sitting on the edge of the roof swinging his legs as the ladder had fallen from the roof. So, there he sat waiting for her to return...not a care in the world, swinging his legs. HA


  3. i love that story, kris.
    and, yes, jane and lance, you are right, the rood isn't the place for a man of his age. however, it seems one roof or another is always needing his presence.