Of course there are no Thanksgiving scenes in any of Shakespeare’s works since that holiday was not on his creative road map. However, he did have several worthwhile lines about giving thanks. Feel free to share as you gather round your table on Thursday.
“O Lord that lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!” — 2 Henry VI
“Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.” — The Winter’s Tale
I’m almost adjusted to the annual switcheroo, although that shock and surprise of darkness descending at 4:30 pm and waking up at 6 am and thinking it must be the middle of the night because it is so depressingly dark never has become something I’ve grown used to over my lifetime of turning the clocks back one hour in the fall.
Whew-a paragraph of quiet rant. Thank you for allowing that. I do feel better.
With time on my mind, I thought I would dedicate this month’s Word Nerd post to words that reflect time. Ready?
At least one full page!
How are you coping with the time change. You are excused if you are from Hawaii or Arizona.
If you identify with parent of school age children, then I commiserate with you for the back-to-school shopping marathon. Well, yes, it is exciting getting the kiddos ready for another (or their first) foray into the classroom routine. But it is tiring and expensive.
If you are a student, you are either bummed or excited, or perhaps a bit of both, since it means put a pause on summer fun in order to focus on the mojo needed to get into the school routine.
As a teacher, you are no doubt either already back in the classroom (depending on where you teach) or bum-weary from having to sit through endless admin-led meetings while you would rather be preparing your room.
None of the above? You are probably then retired or an empty-nester or perhaps neither a parent or teacher, although you vaguely remember your September back-to-school days.
This marks my fourth September I will not be returning as a teacher, yet I found myself back on campus anyway. My retirement days are centered around books: I’m either reading them, writing them, or doing something with them that is library related. Today I dropped off a box of donated of books to a couple of schools, one of which was where I formerly taught English.
Yes, it was strange.
No, I didn’t miss it.
Yes, I briefly said “howdy” to some former compadres. And yes, I delivered my usual line of “I highly recommend it!” when asked how I like being retired.
Okay, fine–I do miss some aspects of being a teacher, such as getting to know my students, watching them catch the spark of appreciating literature, lunch time sessions with teacher chums, and staff meetings (just kidding on that one).
So, here is hoping your back-to-school blues aren’t severe, and hoping the school year is fabulous, whether you are in a school desk, behind the teacher’s desk, or planning a cruise since everyone else is back in school.
November weather is doing it’s usual thing of a stretch of rainy days followed by freezy nights and shivery days.
The birds and squirrels are coming in thick and fast stocking up before the snow flies. We keep the feeders going year round but having second thoughts about the birdbath. The birds appreciate the solar fountain, yet that was stored away due to lack of solar power. The best it could muster was an anemic dribble effect.
The birds still gather for a quick sip. No baths lately. One reason is because the water is freezing up. I have taken up the chore of pouring warm water in the birdbaths to loosen up the ice. The fun part is the monocle I pull out.
Backyard Science
I think of Woodstock running his Zamboni on his birdbath ice rink. And I did watch a starling skate around on the ice before I managed to do my defrosting chore. It was one puzzled bird.
There is an unspoken rule that winter is not allowed to happen while autumn is still working on dropping leaves. And winter should hold off until November, preferably until after Thanksgiving. December is acceptable.
We all know winter doesn’t play by the rules.
Waking up to this while it’s still October set back my cheery outlook:
Insult to injury were the winds of 14+ mph all through the day. A few birds attempted to visit the feeder, like this persevering mourning dove.
Not being a winter fan (I don’t ski, walking is curtailed, and hammocking is postponed) snow is definitely a four-letter word in my realm.
Trying to recoup the day I tried to find some positives. A cozy fire was made, a cup of cocoa while I edited a manuscript, fave Pandora station in the background, a new jigsaw puzzle, and a stack of books from the library. Oh, leaf raking is on hold and the yard looks tidier with the leaves hidden by that fresh snow topping.
Okay, not so bad after all, especially since it all melted by 1 pm.
I can’t fight winter🥶
I can find ways of coping, and this winter preview made me realize that snow doesn’t have to ruin my outlook. Keep the cocoa coming and always have a few books on the ready and it will be April before I know it.
Thanksgiving comes around in November and getting together with friends and family can be emotional for some. Needing a few choice words to express feelings might be handy.
verklempt: overly emotional and unable to speak.
velleity: a mere wish, unaccompanied by an effort to obtain it.
stultify: to render absurdly or wholly futile or ineffectual, especially by degrading or frustrating means
thrawn: contrary; peevish; stubborn
longanimity: patient endurance of hardship, injuries, or offense; forbearance
foofaraw: a great fuss or disturbance about something very insignificant
megillah: a lengthy, detailed explanation or account
brabble: to argue stubbornly about trifles; wrangle
fustigate: to criticize harshly; castigate
gasconade: extravagant boasting; boastful talk
nescience: lack of knowledge; ignorance
frumious: very angry
snollygoster: a clever, unscrupulous person
beamish: bright, cheerful, and optimistic
Let’s hope if someone should start a megillah at the table no one will fustigate or brabble should it lead to gasconade. Instead, the gathering be one that is beamish.
While not a fan of Halloween, I am a fan of pumpkin. While not a fan how pumpkin spice seems to rule the season, I am a fan of guinea pigs. So here is a share that should please those who love pumpkin spice and adore guinea pigs. Let’s see how long it takes for Mike Allegra to say he inspired this post.
Not sure if we have adopted a squirrel or if she has adopted us.
It began with me spotting a medium grey squirrel bounding across the lawn. A somewhat unusual sight. Deer are more frequent visitors. Squirrel activity diminished with dogs moving into the neighborhood.
Or so we thought.
Upon spotting the bounding squirrel I mustered up my squirrel call. You know the one, that high-pitched ch-ch-ch the do. Yeah. She was impressed and came leaping right over to me. She look fairly surprised to find me instead of a swaggering grey suited critter of interest.
Since then she has shown little fear of hanging out in the yard with us. Costco is making a tidy profit from the bags of peanuts the hubs buys for her.
She will cautiously approach us and grab a peanut from our fingers. Rolling and measuring its worth in her mouth she will then deposit it in some part of the yard. Digging like a little terrier she pats it in place with dainty satisfaction and traipses over for more. I split them open because once open she tastes that peanuttyness and snacks right on the spot, inches from where I sit on the bench. Syringa, does truly work for peanuts.
Now we have a couple of new additions. A tiny sable squirrel who discovered the neighbor’s squirrel proof bird feeder could not deter him. He used our fence as a diner freeway until trashing the bird feeder in less than two weeks. He has moved on the freebie peanuts laid out for Syringa. She’s having none of it.
Their tussles and chitterings range across the lawn and through the lily leaves. Entertaining turf wars at its best. We call this little guy Skitter, since he moves as fast as a drop of water on the pancake skillet. He’s too fast to snap a photo.
And a third squirrel has appeared. Yet, this one is a puzzlement. I notice it is small with characteristic squirrel gray coloring yet its eye rings are white like a chipmunk and so is its tummy. The legs are brownish. A hybrid squirrel? We’ve dubbed this one Buddy, as in “Hey, Buddy—what are you?”
The birds are beginning to vacate the area for warmer climates so there is less action at the feeder. On the other hand, the colder weather is ramping up squirrel activity as they gather nuts and bury them all over the yard. I find peanuts in my plant containers, in flower beds, and all over the lawn. How will they find them all?
Syringa will come over and spread out on the concrete like a dog when we are hanging out back. Classic splooting stance.Buddy infiltrating Syringa’s snack tray. Strange markings for a squirrel, wouldn’t you say?
A tree lover. An appreciator of their grace, shade, and mesmerizing swish when the winds converse with them; however, I am not a fan of the annual migration of downward accumulation.
This year my strategy of waiting for all the leaves to fall before raking backfired. We received an early snow and the leaves frisked about the snowfall, creating a decorative touch of color. A bit like sprinkles on vanilla frosting.
I was momentarily charmed.
But then the snow melted, the rest of the leaves fell within one week–somewhat of a follow the leader venue (is that snickering I hear?) and the momentous task of dealing with two towering aspens, a birch, a linden, and a maple tree. Certain evergreens wanting in on the game shed their dagger needles as well.
I contemplated leaving the leaves alone this year. Scientifically, don’t they mulch and return to the soil as the snow blankets them all winter? I image more time is needed than the four months of dozing under the snow would render them inert.
The yard must have started looking pathetic because I had a group of church kids stop by and offer to rake my leaves. Oh. That’s so nice. Do I look old enough where I can’t handle taking care of my yard anymore? I’m thinking they were being nice.
Okay, November is here. Snow is lurking down the pike. It’s a rousing 46 degrees and I’m going to do this.
To leaf alone or not leaf alone.–always the question…
Leaf blower at the ready. Rake, snow shovel (it’s the best for leaf scooping), and wheelbarrow are standing by.
herding leaves is right up there with herding cats–they don’t always go where you want them to…
I managed to get the leaves in four or five major piles and then it’s always the dilemma of burn, mulch, tarp or ? This is the only time of the year when I am envious of city folk, who are only 7 minutes down the line, jurisdiction wise. They get to cart their leaves to the curb and have city garbage haul them away. While us county folk have to figure it out.
This year it’s the giant pile and tarp for a spring burn. It’s getting them into that giant pile.
Having been called away by a Mother errand (glasses needed tightening, and while we are out, she says, I need a pedicure and some new tops), I did not return until almost three hours later. My hopes of the leaves somehow Disney-like traipsing into “hi ho hi ho” parade and forming themselves into that desired leaf pile momentarily tickled me.
No such luck.
I will give full credit to my Hubs who managed to corral the leaves and tarp them. At least most of them.
Help is always appreciated when tending to leaves
“Thanks for doing the leaves.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What are your plans for the rest of the leaves?”
“What other leaves?”
“The ones over there.”
“Oh, I didn’t see those.”
Okay, he’s wonderfully managed to organize and tarp the leaves. Am I going to point out that there is still a significant amount of leaves left to deal with?
![The Best Cordless Lightweight Leaf Blower [2020] | Archute](https://www.archute.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/lightweight-leaf-blower-reviews.jpg)
Pam Webb 