i've never known november to be a barefoot month. but last night, when i stumbled from my bed at 2 a.m. to take edgar outside, there were no shoes by the kitchen door, so i plunged out into the night barefoot with just my cotton 'marie antoinette' nightshirt on. i was not the least bit uncomfortable. the wood porch floor was gentle on my feet and the air was warm. like an evening in late august. what a rare night this was. and i stood in the night, just barely dressed, completely enjoying the moment, while edgar sniffed around in the carpet of dead leaves. neither of us wanted to go back inside.

our days have been so lovely. but by 5.30 pm we are all wrapped up in night. the fires lit and lamps on. these long dark evenings settle around us, waiting to be filled. the darkness stretching before us. this is when i draw the most. i pull out notebooks and my tiny tin box of conte and jars of ink and pen nibs and start making a mess. tom plays guitar and i scribble out drawings. maybe we watch a hockey game. or a favorite sitcom. but, the long dark evenings of late fall and early winter are when i itch to draw.

the harbor is empty, boats lining the edge of the water. a crane lifting them gingerly and dripping. so naked and vulnerable. a boat hibernating on shore is sad in a singular way. my favorite, a wide wooden yacht, who waves and smiles in the water, is now sitting stiff and cold in it's winter hold.

the light is strong. we walk with bulky coats. the fire smells warm and there are still a few leaves that whisper on branches. i will wash the floors and make quilts. november is strong in my bones today.

we live in a large town, not a large city. but a large town. we have a university. we have a military base and a military university. we have a community college. and several prisons. we have teaching hospitals and a thriving tourist industry. and we have a wind farm. massive wind turbines that change with the light. i call them 'the angels'. they stand just across the lake from us on wolfe island, looking out over the lake at us, at times glowing with their mammoth wings moving in the wind. they harness the energy that the wind generates off the lake and filters that to our power grid. a sustainable power source. i am pleased that we can offer clean and sustainable alternatives. and i'm equally glad that i'm not living directly beneath them. it was difficult for me to watch during the construction phase, as the pristine vista of lake and island that feels like part of my home, was changed forever. there are 86 turbines, each of them 400 feet high, which is a dramatic change.
however, now that we have lived with them for over a year, they have re-created the vista and have become the view i now embrace. finding a way to function in a sustainable way comes in all shapes and sizes and is a lengthy process. so, we try in our home to make changes that make a difference. we are minimizing disposable paper products in our home. we use cloth napkins. and cotton cloths for cleaning in the kitchen. and lots of tea towels. i started making tom hankies a couple of years ago and he always has one in his pocket. i make them to be fun and functional. stylish and re-usable. we are all able to make our own homes function with just a little less waste. it gets simpler and simpler. and that, i suppose is my point. living simply.

october is my favorite walking month. the light is distracting. the air is still gentle in it's crisp chill. edgar and i have beautiful walks along the water. and at times while i'm in my workroom sewing, i wish i was out walking with edgar. this morning is damp {not quite raining, but probably will soon} but we will still have a little tour. we are lucky to live on the lake and have the lake's simple drama as part of our daily routine. we walk on the grounds of a hospital that has been around for 150 years or more. the old buildings interact with the new. and the walkway along the water is full of trees and rocky ledges and pebbly beaches. i am sad to say goodbye to october. i feel like i lose a friend every time this month rolls past.

i love the quiet of my sunny little room lined with bolts of fabric. the bare pine plank floors are warm on my feet, even now with the dramatic temperature drop. the tables are full of fabric squares and spools of thread. the window looks onto the street, with overgrown garden plants framing my view. my fabrics tell me little stories. all the patterns and colors. gathering them in a garden of patches and calling it a quilt is like writing a novel for me. i watch the story grow stronger and the characters develop. that is where i find my serenity. so on sunday, october 18th, from 12 - 6, i am inviting you all to the grand opening of chasing lightning bugs studio. i hope you will taste a little of the serenity in the items i make. feel a little of the story. and just enjoy an october afternoon by the lake, in a flurry of autumn brilliance.

we went to the market on the weekend. we are fortunate to have a thriving, bustling farmer's market in the heart of our little city. it sits safely in the square behind our city hall and operates 4 days a week. the cast of characters varies, and yet also stays the same. three seasons the tables are stacked high and colorful. in winter, it's sparse, but always open. tom was making turkey for dinner. we found fresh peas. mixed greens. leeks and tomatoes. eggs. radishes. baguette and honey. and a pie. it was perfect little shopping trip, strolling through the streets, planning our dinner. all of it locally grown or baked. when we were making our list, on our way, we both wanted peas, but didn't expect there would be any in october. the man from napanee had peas. $3 a pint, still sweet and tender. we bought two pints and had enough for 5 servings.....as well as the dozens we ate while shucking. our six year old neighbor sat on a stool in the kitchen with us, guessing how many peas would be in each pod and eating most of the ones she shucked. and did i mention the radishes? my favorite addition to a salad.

it was a perfect shopping trip to the market, an energy filled afternoon in the kitchen and a lovely dinner and evening with friends.