it's sunday night with a cold wet rain falling. it's the night we put our garbage out. i can hear the scrape of the neighbor's plastic bins along the street. tom and i remind each other that it needs to be done. but neither of us wants to do the job. it's been a windy day, with bright sun and periodically the wind blew in rain. i hung white towels and linens on the line and they came in smelling of winter. and, although it's hard for me to admit openly, the scents of winter in my laundry are my favorite. they are fresh and distinct. i wrapped in my still damp towel after my late afternoon bath and kept my face in it, filling up with it's scent.there was football on tv while i ironed strips of fabric for quilts. and a fire in the fireplace. and we just returned from a neighborly gathering across the street. a potluck to which we contributed nothing but a bottle of wine. homemade perogies, baked beans, slow cooked bison, roasted root vegetables, apple/rhubarb crisp and apple cranberry cake. the children played upstairs in the loft under the eaves. some of us collected around the table, while others found softer seats. and we talked about our weekends and the upcoming week. recent happenings in the neighborhood. new phones. work.
a lovely day.

we spent the day in other people's houses today. houses being sold by the bank. or that had been left as part of an estate. houses empty and alone. in one we were afraid to walk up the stairs it was so structurally questionable. and in a couple the walls were bare lathe with the plaster torn away. there were parks and a river. schools. beautiful tree lined streets. rhubarb filled gardens. old wood soaked with life. paint that is chipped and worn. spaces i immediately make warm and happy in my mind. the anticipation and the possibilities swirl in an endless loop of aesthetic battles. i need to maintain the old, the charm, the integrity. and yet make it fresh and appealing in the honesty of it's bones. we haven't found the right house yet, or maybe we have.

we live in a neighborhood that i am thankful for everyday. we regularly share amazing moments with our neighbors. tonight was one of those times. krista and rudy organized a wonderful autumn celebration for canadian thanksgiving. we gathered at their place, everyone arriving laden with bowls of food and bottles of wine. 2 organic turkeys.....so the scent of roasting turkey was drifting down the street all afternoon. and a long table heavy with food. laughter and eating and wine. children being coerced to eat enough of whatever item they didn't want to eat. dogs waiting for the sloppy eaters to let something fall. and then someone suggested some fresh air before bringing out the pies. so all of us sauntered down to the lake, while the children raced. i found a pocketful of beach glass. we climbed on the rocks.

and then wandered back home to pumpkin pie, apple pie and butter tarts. and a little more wine. the children were begging for tickles. and attention of any kind, really. we found intriguing conversations about our different but similar fundamentalist christian childhoods. and then it was time to gather our bowls and walk across the street to our homes with a goodie bag of turkey and pie to bring home.

we are lucky to share our lives and our homes with the wonderful people we call neighbors. happy thanksgiving.