I don't remember. I'm also not sure if that white mass on the bottom is the tide rising or something else. I'm going with the tide. I'd also wager that the bird is taking off as the tide rolls toward it. I wasn't very good at labeling and/or remembering eighteen years ago when I took these pictures.
Today is the winter solstice! The days have already stopped getting shorter. It won't be long now before they start getting longer again. Yay!
I can only think of one thing that might be more difficult than pushing a baby stroller in the sand. That would be pushing a stroller up and down the steep streets and stairs of the Mont Saint-Michel itself. If I remember correctly, the island's few streets are paved with cobblestones. More fun!
I'm off to do some pre-holiday grocery shopping this morning. But first, it's my turn to walk Tasha. The wind has died down, but it's colder this morning than it was yesterday.
Here's a 2006 photo of a group of kids "playing" in the quicksand that surrounds the Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. The adults are there, just outside the photo. The web sites I consulted on the topic (actu.fr and wikihow.com) say that it's nearly impossible to sink all the way into quicksand due to the body's natural buoyancy and the fact that most quicksand is not very deep. The quicksand is actually a pocket of water below the sand's surface. When you step on it, you press out the water as your feet start to sink in. As you'd expect, once your feet go under, your weight continues to push water out of the sand surrounding them, creating a suction force that prevents you from wriggling out. The more you fight it, the farther in you go, to a point. Gentle movements that allow water to re-penetrate the sand will work to free you. One leg at a time.
When the tide goes out at the Mont Saint-Michel, people can walk out onto the sand flats. Or are they mud flats? Quicksand flats? There is a danger of getting stuck in quicksand. We saw a couple of tour groups whose leaders were demonstrating how the quicksand gets you and how you can get out. It's amazing to watch.
All the flats in this photo flood over when the tide comes in. That's something else that's amazing to watch. I've been on the Mont once while the tide came in. Alarms in town warned people to get off the sand flats, to move cars out of the lower parking lots, to get the last buses back to the mainland, and just to be aware of the rising water. We planned to spend the night on the island so we weren't worried. We enjoyed a nice dinner then a high and dry hotel room before we needed to leave the next morning.
I should have waited until it got darker, but I was impatient. Still, you can see the lights hanging over the deck.
We just approved an estimate to have five new roll-down shutters installed. Merry Christmas to us! Two of the new shutters will be on windows in this photo. First, the kitchen window (middle left) shutter will be replaced. We had the current shutter put in almost twenty years ago. It's brown while all the shutters we've had replaced on the house since are white. The new shutter will be solar-powered like those we installed on the back (west side) of the house. The attic window in the dormer will also get a new shutter (as will the other attic window on the north side). They've never shutters, but since we had the attic finished, it makes sense. Two glass block windows on the south side, ground floor, (along the road) will also get shutters. That's a total of five new shutters for the house.
We also got an estimate for the deck door/window, too, but that's a big and costly job; we decided to skip it for now.
This year's tree. I still have some ornaments to hang before I put all the empty boxes away.
Here's another look at the former parking lot(s) at the foot of the Mont Saint-Michel. They're now mostly gone. Visitors to the island are required to park on the mainland and take shuttles over a newly (since 2014) constructed bridge. Now the bay's tidal waters can surround the island, and the movement of the tides and the adjoining Couesnon River can help to keep it that way by minimizing sedimentation. This view shows the tour bus parking area that is no more.
I don't know the details, but there are residents on the island that must be permitted to drive, along with law enforcement and emergency vehicles, not to mention vehicles that provide services to businesses such as restaurants, hotels, and shops. I'll bet that access is tightly regulated.
I took this photo back in 2006 on one of our visits to the Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. Back then, the island was connected to a causeway lined with parking lots (which is where we parked on this visit). The Mont was no longer a tidal island. I don't think we knew it at the time, but plans were in the works to remove the parking lots to the mainland and replace the causeway with a bridge, thus allowing the tides to once again encircle the site. The Mont would become a tidal island once again.
The work was completed in 2014 (I don't have a photo of that; maybe we should plan another trip!). Since then, cars must park on the mainland and visitors must take shuttles over the new bridge to access the tiny island town and its historic abbey. Now twice a day, when the tide comes in, the Mont is surrounded by water as it had been through most of human history.
Is it like garlic to a vampire? Whatever. May this image ward away any bad luck this Friday the thirteenth.
The replacement part for the wood stove arrived yesterday. It was late, which made me think it wasn't coming, but it showed up. Yay! The package was wrapped tighter than an Egyptian pharaoh and took a lot of effort to undo, but it's here. I decided to try it out right away.
The old part had been deformed by eighteen seasons of fire. It had curved into a near semi-circle before finally breaking in two. It was no longer able to fulfill its function: to keep burning logs inside the stove when the door is open. What's more, the curvature significantly reduced the space available for logs and thus the size of the fires I could make.
As you can see, the replacement part is straight as an arrow and, for the moment, looks rather spiffy. I'm hoping that it will outlive the rest of the stove. I'm not sure what the normal lifespan of this stove is supposed to be. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I didn't want to wait a week to post this, so I'm making an exception to the rule. A rule that I made, so it's ok. When Tasha lounges around the house, she often crosses her legs. She looks so sophisticated.
I'm expecting delivery today of the replacement part that I ordered for the wood stove. It was promised for November 27, but we're way beyond that now. Happily, I got an email a few days ago from the shipper saying that part is in their hands and should be here some time this morning. I was getting nervous that I might have fallen for a scam, but everything appears to be on the up and up. Just late (with no contact from the seller). France reminds us once again that patience is a virtue.
For most of us tourists and casual photographers, getting that "perfect" shot without people in it takes more effort than most of us will spend. Often, it's just impossible. So, we need to learn to work our fellow tourists into our shots as part of the scene which, after all, they are. People can add color, a sense of motion, and/or a measure of scale to a photograph. Getting that shot can mean standing around for a while until the stars align. You know it when it happens, but a lot of the time it just doesn't.
Software is getting better at removing unwanted elements in photos and I'm certainly not opposed to doing that. It's all part of the creative process. This shot is so-so in my opinion. I would remove the woman and girl walking toward the left. I wish the lone walking woman was a little more toward the left, not blocking any of the window pane. The disembodied feet in tennis shoes on the lower right would also go. I like the idea of taking a picture of a guy taking a picture. I'm not sure it works here as well as I had hoped. But it's okay.
Gothic vaulted ceilings are constructed with columns, arches, and butresses that work together to channel the forces of the loads they carry, thus creating a usable space below them.
We're expecting a contractor to come by this week to look at our automatic garage door. They (brothers) installed the door back in 2018, and it's been great. The problem is that it has recently developed a rather annoying tick that causes it to reverse itself before it closes. We can't identify the problem, so we're hoping the guys who installed it can do so and fix it easily. We're also going to ask them to work up estimates the replacement or installation of new shutters on various windows around the house.
This is probably the last of the arches photos from the Mont Saint-Michel. I took all of them back in 2006 and decided to re-work them a little. The originals are what they are: taken with my old Panasonic bridge camera, my first digital camera. I was just learning to use Photoshop for the most basic of post-processing, mostly cropping and straightening. But now, except for the smartphone camera, I use a full-frame DSLR camera and Lightroom for "developing."
I successfully placed our order for a chapon de pintade (Guinea fowl capon) yesterday. I was lucky that the rain moved out just as I was heading out to the market. Soon after, the wind picked up and it's been blowin' a gale, calming down a little over night. I'll pick up the bird on Christmas Eve at Saint-Aignan's special Christmas market.
More views inside the abbey at the Mont Saint-Michel.
The wind and rain seems to be moving off. At least the rain. I think we're going to have wind most of the day. And dropping temperatures. I still plan to go out this morning, mostly because I need to get a prescription renewal.
This is the abbey cloister at the Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. I don't know the identity of the woman posing for a photo.
Mother Nature is going to try to meddle in my weekend plans to go to the market and order our holiday bird. I may have to put it off for a week if the weather gets ugly.
Chocolate snails! We've been enjoying them around the holidays for a few years now, so I guess that qualifies as a new tradition. This year, instead of sticking with the basic milk chocolate and dark chocolate snails, we tried almond and caramel. They're all good. Neither one of us is a big chocoholic; a little goes a long way. But these rich snail-shaped chocolates hit the spot!
This was yesterday's sunrise from out by the lone walnut tree among the grape vines. It was brief; soon after I snapped this shot the sun rose up behind the clouds and the color faded.
I've just realized how close Christmas is. On Saturday I'll go to the market in town and order our holiday bird. We're planning on a chapon de pintade this year, a male Guinea fowl, as the main course.
This is one of the few photos that I took of the Sées cathedral's exterior. It seems this cathedral has burned, partially collapsed, and been rebuilt numerous times over the centuries.
The weather forecast is now revised. It seems that it might not get as cold as originally predicted this week. We'll still see single digits, but won't get very close to freezing.
Still in the cathedral at Sées. The paint job certainly livens things up. I don't know if this is a reproduction of what it originally looked like or something new. It sure makes a big difference from those old cathedrals and churches whose walls are darkened by centuries of smoke (from candles, etc.) and other air pollution.
Today's our last "warm" day before a cold spell sets in. We may get down to or below freezing by the end of the week. It's Decemburrr.
This is another view inside the cathedral at Sées.Not much to "say" about it. Sées rhymes with the English word "say."
No leftovers photo today. We took a break from lamb on Saturday and had an Asian-style chicken stir-fry. We'll get back to the lamb today.
Let the leftovers begin! On Friday we ate leftover lamb roast, sliced and served cold (well, room temperature) with Ken's home-made mayonnaise, one of the classic French sauces. Along with that, we had some little boiled potatoes, also allowed to cool for serving, and the left-over Brussels sprouts served the same way. We drank Corbières, a red wine from the south, made mostly with carignan grapes.
We have at least one meal of lamb to go. Maybe a shepherd's pie. Who can say? By the way, Friday was a sunny day! It was nice to have a bright day for a change.
I managed to remember to take one photo of our dinner. It's not staged at all, just the regular jumble that our dining table always is. Still, it records the food for posterity. I didn't take a photo of the appetizer, escargots (snails) in garlic/parsley butter. It was good, especially for those who like garlic.
The rest of the meal followed and that's what's in the photo. There's the rolled leg of lamb, perfectly cooked to just the right amount of rareness. Ken roasted it in the air fryer, a first for us. Then there are Brussels sprouts, a holiday favorite, steamed until mostly done, then sliced and sautéed in butter and olive oil. The beans, French flageolets, were served hot and simply seasoned. I drank a local dry white sparkling wine and Ken drank a Mediterranean rosé with the snails. The main course was served with a local Touraine Mesland red. Tasty! Finally, dessert was the pumpkin pie that I made on Wednesday.
Happy Thanksgiving to the American crowd! I made our holiday pumpkin pie on Wednesday, the day before the holiday. The idea is that it would be done and out of the way when the rest of the meal is prepared this morning. Ken's going out early to retrieve the leg of lamb that he ordered on Tuesday.
We'll also be having some Brussels sprouts and flageolets (small green beans traditionally served with lamb in France) along side. The starter will be snails in a garlic, butter, and parsley sauce. I'll try to get some photos along the way.
I snapped this photo in June 2006 while visiting the abbey at the Mont Saint-Michel on the Normandy coast.
I'm waiting for that part I ordered for the wood stove. The delivery date was estimated for the 27th, which is today. It's not here, yet.
Or a couple hundred. These were in the cathedral at Sées up in Normandy, again back in the summer of 2006. The cathedral is an impressive sight, inside and out, and worth a stop if you're in the area.
I was hopeful that the recent winds we've had would help to dry things out. But, no. It's still soggy outside. Not much fun for waking with Tasha and not very practical for getting yard work done. I know I could just buck up, bundle up, and get something done out there, but I'm not motivated. I am, however, looking forward to our Thanksgiving feast on Thursday. Priorities.
This is a view of the organ at the church of Saint-Pierre in the Loire Valley city of Saumur. We visited a few places in that area with our late friend CHM that summer in 2006.
The warm-up has come. Temperatures are in the mid-teens (celsius), but not for long. The wind has died down, and rain is predicted to move in as the temperatures start to drop again (probably not below zero). Our yard is covered with dead leaves and downed branches (nothing serious) around the bases of trees and in the driveway and the garden path. I'd like to deal with those one of these days. Maybe today, if it's dry enough.
The forecasters say it will be warm today with a high of around 18ºC (about 64ºF). We'll be out of the single digits, at least for now. I'll take it. It's been pretty cold these past few days.
We're making plans for our annual Thanksgiving meal. Not that there's much to do. We have most of the fixin's on hand. One of us will head across the river on Monday or Tuesday to order our traditional gigot d'agneau (leg of lamb). We've decided to ask the butcher to bone the leg, then roll it and tie it into a roast. It's something we've had done before because it makes the leg easier to roast and carve. Stay tuned!
The snow we had on Thursday is long gone. Little remnants can be seen here and there in the shady spots, but for all intents and purposes, it's gone. Snow has become rare in these parts over the twenty-plus years that we've lived here. I remember that we had a dusting on New Year's Day in 2004, our first winter here. And, in late November 2010, we had about six inches in one storm.
In our first winters here, there was usually some snow accumulation, an inch or a few, that lasted for a few days or less, mostly in February and/or March. But we've certainly had fewer of that kind of snow event in recent years. I doubt that twenty years of dwindling snow accumulation in our part of the world qualifies as evidence of climate change. It's more likely just part of the normal cycle of things. Whatever it is, I welcome a little snow now and then to remind us of the season. As long as I don't have to drive in it.
I went out early to the grocery store on Thursday morning. It opens at 08h30. It was raining lightly when I went in, but it was snowing wildly when I came out. I drove home carefully. The snow wasn't yet sticking to the roads, so it wasn't treacherous, but visibility was reduced. When I got home, it kept snowing, and then it began to stick everywhere.
I think we might have had an inch in total. Not very much, but very pretty. It started melting away in the afternoon and evening, but there may be some ice out there as the overnight low temperature was (and is as I type this) very close to zero. I'll have to be careful when I walk Tasha this morning.
Yesterday started out fine, but soon took a turn toward the bizarre. I walked Tasha, as usual, out in the vineyard. When we got home, I saw what looked like a goat in the street a few houses down from us. Two of the households down there keep goats so, obviously, one got out. I took Tasha inside and didn't give it another thought.
After drying Tasha's paws and giving her the morning biscuit, I went out to move our car out onto the street so that Ken wouldn't be blocked in by the groomer, who was to arrive at 09h00. After I moved the car, the goat from down the street casually walked toward our house, into our driveway and went out to the back yard. I went out to shoo it back out of the yard and it cooperated. I closed the gate and started to walk down to where the goat came from, thinking it would follow me to its home and stay there.
It followed me, alright. About halfway down the street it turned and attacked me with its horns. And it wouldn't stop. I was wrestling with the beast in the middle of the street, trying to grab it by the horns, but it kept wriggling away and butting me, again using its horns to trip me up. Twice I hit the asphalt very hard. I was able to keep my head up while the goat kept upending me. By this time I was shouting Help! and Au Secours!, hoping someone in the neighborhood would hear. But there was no one at home to hear, and back at our place, Ken was in the shower.
I managed to move the goat back to my driveway gate and hold it off long enough to get inside and close it. I went into the house and told Ken what happened. I noticed I had a bloody shin and calf. Just then, the groomer showed up and parked on the street outside the gate. The goat had walked back out to the vineyard and was watching us. I told the groomer what was going on and we hurried to get her tools into the driveway and close the gate as the goat trotted toward us. It jumped up on the gate, but couldn't get over. Then it turned and jumped up on the groomer's car door. Finally, it turned and walked back toward its home.
We got the groomer set up in the utility room and, as she got started with Tasha, Ken called our town hall to report the rogue goat. They didn't have a clue about what to do. The mayor, who lives in our neighborhood, couldn't be located. We told the groomer all this and she took out her cell phone and called the police. As she told the police, in a good-natured way, what had happened, I realized the story sounded kind of comedic. I'm glad we had her as a witness.
The police took a long time to show up. Goat herding is understandably not a high priority for them. When the two officers arrived, we told them the story. I could see that they were fighting back smiles. It was then that I realized that the goat was gone. We thanked the police and they left -- there was really nothing they could do -- but where did the goat go?
Later in the morning, the woman who keeps the goat (she has two) rang our bell. She knew what had happened and apologized. Apparently, her father (a frequent visitor to our neighborhood, but we never knew who he was until yesterday) had forgotten to latch the gate on the goat enclosure earlier in the morning. He had realized his mistake and gone back to the house, got the goat in, latched the gate, and went home, all in the time between the attack on the groomer's car and the time the police arrived. We actually saw him driving away, but didn't make the connection.
Life has resumed its normal slow and calm pace. Tasha's all groomed. My leg would is superficial, but I'm still a little sore in spots. Looking back, our story sounds slightly ridiculous, but it truly happened and I was genuinely frightened. I'm not a youngster any more and that animal was stronger than me.
I can only imagine the guffaws over at the police station.
We've been anticipating today's grooming appointment for a while now. Tasha's original appointment was canceled last September when the groomer went on maternity leave for several months. The "new" groomer will still come to the house but, from what I can tell, she doesn't have a mobile grooming vehicle. She'll use the shower and tub sink in our utility room instead. So, this appointment has given us an excuse to do some long-overdue tidying up down there.
Last evening we enjoyed (not) a few hours of stormy weather. Heavy, wind-driven rain pelted us between 17h30 and 20h30, drowning out the television's volume for for a while. The good news is that our roof repairs seem to be holding. I can see no evidence of leaks where there were not so long ago. Another weather system is expected to move through on Thursday. Temperatures are expected to drop toward the negative and some snow is predicted. We'll see what actually happens.
The fog has gone. Clouds, wind, and rain are the order of the day. And probably the week, according to some of the forecasts. But, on Monday morning, some sun slipped through.
It was a productive day. I carted the recycling away and I got the barbecue grill all put away for the winter. We also worked on the tidying up the utility room in advance of Tasha's home grooming appointment on Wednesday. This groomer doesn't operate out of a converted RV like her colleague. She wanted access to a shower and a tub, both of which we have in the utility room. Just a little more to do and we'll be ready.
So... we have a battery charger that seems to have worked. We have a leaf blower to help clean up autumn's mess. We have an air compressor to pump up tired tires. And we have cold and soggy weather keeping us from getting much done outdoors.
So... what's next? I suppose I should put the battery back in the lawnmower and see if it starts. Something is making me hesitate. Maybe it's just inertia. I have to finish cleaning the barbecue grill so I can cover it for the winter. Again, inertia. I definitely have to make a trip to the recycle center. Our bins runneth over. Maybe I'll do that today.
We are still fogged in. It's been weeks. Nothing but gray with low visibility. And everything is damp and dripping. Today is supposed to be a change day with rain moving in to replace the fog. Lovely.
I think I told you that I managed to get the dead battery out of the riding motor. It's a 12v battery, sort of a mini version of a car battery. And we got the charger that was "recommended" by the guys in the hardware store ("this is the one we use"). I read the instructions very carefully and very frequently and then hooked it up. It seems to have worked as it should have, even though it took about eight hours to charge. The next step is to put it back in the mower and see if it works. Then it will have to come out of the mower again for the winter.
The documentation (or as I call it, the fine print) for the mower says it should be stored with the battery disconnected, and to charge up the battery every four weeks or so to keep it happy. Oh, and Ken ordered a small home air compressor to keep the mower's tires plump. That should also come in handy for other flat tires around the house (wheelbarrow and hand truck, for instance).
One of the growers who owns most of the vineyard parcels behind our house is at it again. She is replacing yet another parcel of old vines. At least I hope that's what she's doing. Many of the parcels that she's had dug up over the past few years are still lying fallow. And here's yet another parcel that she had dug up last week. Shortly after I took this photo, the pile of dug up vine trunks (visible in the center to the left of the orange backhoe) was burned to ashes.
There's another patch of vines just outside our garden gate, about five rows, that was pulled up, too. The vineyard is looking less like a vineyard and more like a construction zone (and a muddy one at that) these days. Remember the ravine? Let's hope for new vines, at least in some of the parcels, next spring!
Here Tasha and I just left the house and are heading out for our morning walk. A lot of leaves have fallen from the tilleul (linden tree) onto the garden path (there are still a lot left to fall). Raking them up is a pain, but no more! We just became the proud owners of a leaf blower thanks to our hardware store credit. My plan is to blow the leaves off the path and onto the grass, them run them over with the mower (once I get that running again).
I tested the blower out yesterday in the driveway on the other side of the house and it works pretty well. It also has a feature for sucking up the leaves into a bag, but that looks like a lot of trouble in terms of emptying the bag and cleaning out the machine. We'll stick with blowing the leaves for now. Baby steps.
I took this picture about a month ago, just after arriving back from my trip to the US. A throwback to autumn, even though we have another month of it to go.
Yesterday, I stopped into the hardware store to see about a recharger for the lawnmower's battery. I had no idea what to look for and there is nothing I can find in the manual to tell me.I wanted to ask the staff what they would recommend for my mower. After all, it's the place where I bought the thing. I haven't pulled the battery yet, so there may be something written on it.
At any rate, after much consultation (with each other) and head scratching, the two guys that were helping me found what I hope is the answer. They pulled a charger off the shelves that I never would have seen myself because it was on an end cap and not with the other chargers. "This is the one we use to charge lawnmower batteries," one of the guys said confidently. Why he didn't know that sooner, I do not know. So, after some more online research, I'll probably get that one. I didn't buy it yesterday because, well, that's a long story. Short version: we have a store credit to use up and it's in Ken's name. He has to do the transaction.
I'm going to try to remove our mower's battery today to see what's written on it.
As I mentioned, this year's firewood is stacked and ready for the season. I've already had a few small fires. With the stove grille (that part that keeps the logs from falling out when the door is open) broken, I don't want to risk a regular sized fire.
New problem: the battery in the riding mower is dead. Turns out that it's my fault. I was supposed to remove the battery before parking the mower for the season. I was also expected to recharge the battery about once a month during the off season. The mower didn't come with a charger and nobody mentioned it to me when I bought the machine. Of course, it's in the owner's manual. Which I didn't read in depth. A few days ago, one of our neighbors (who has essentially the same mower) asked if I had taken the battery out. Uh, no. So now I have to go to the hardware store where I bought the mower and ask about rechargers. From what I can tell, the battery's sole purpose is to start the mower's engine. And mine is now dead.
Tasha has been spending some time on the deck while I've been down below stacking firewood. It keeps her dry (the grass all around is pretty wet) and out of trouble (mostly). Good news: Ken found a groomer and Tasha's got an appointment next week. This is another groomer who comes to the house. She asked if we had a shower and/or a bathtub that she could use, so this is not the same setup as the previous groomer (who's now on maternity leave). The utility room has a shower and a large tub/sink next to it, so we should be in good shape.
The log stacking is done! I'll have a couple of photos in the coming days.
This morning I got an email from a local friend who reads this blog from time to time. She read yesterday's post and took note of our problem with the wood burning stove. She suggested I go on line to look for replacement parts for the stove. I hadn't even considered that! I figured that since the company who made the stove went out of business years ago, there wouldn't be an opportunity to find parts.
Well, I forgot about third party enterprises that collect parts and stock them. Et voilà ! I looked around and found the exact product I needed for our stove and ordered it. It'll be delivered to our house in two weeks. Total cost: €50 (about fifty bucks US). Thank goodness for friends and blogs!
Ken and I started work on stacking the firewood that was delivered on Friday. The pile (if shaped a little differently) is almost as big as the car. I think we got almost half of it done before we quit. I'll be back out there this morning. Ken might be out there, too, unless he's busy making lunch. Pictures of the stacked wood to come.
Now we have a wood stove issue to deal with. The front grill that holds burning logs back from the stove's glass door broke in two a few days ago. It's been deformed by eighteen years of use, but I never imagined it would break. It's made of cast iron, after all. We're trying to get in touch with the company that installed the stove in 2006, but they seem to be busy at the moment. And we're in the middle of a holiday weekend. Ken will likely call next week to get an appointment. We need to figure out if there's a grill replacement or fix available. If not, we may have to considering replacing the stove. Ka-ching!
Here's what's become an annual post here: a shot of our neighbors' snowball bush in the fall. In the spring, it's covered with round, white flowers that resemble snowballs. In the fall the flowers are long gone, but the leaves turn bright red.
Our firewood was delivered on time yesterday morning. It's in a big pile (dumped by a truck) in the driveway next to the carport. This morning I'll start stacking it. Of course, rain is predicted for Sunday. I'll never have it all stacked (and out of the rain) by then, so I may need to throw a tarp over it.
We haven't seen the sun in quite a while. Just fog. There was one day last week when the clouds did part, but only briefly. Like about fifteen minutes. Then the fog closed in again.
We're expecting a firewood delivery this morning. Early this morning, like 7h30. The logs will be dumped in our driveway, then it's up to us to stack it. That will take a few days.
This grape vine parcel out back is more red/orange than yellow/orange. If only I could remember what variety of grapes is planted there. I took these photos on Halloween, a week ago already. Most of these leaves have fallen since then.
On today's agenda: a trip to the pharmacy for prescription renewals and an appointment for another covid booster. Also, a stop at the hardware store. I mentioned a leaf blower. I was serious.
This is looking from our great room out onto the deck and beyond. Our two red maple trees (that's likely not their biological name) reached peak color this week. The driveway (just below) is paved with fallen leaves. The annual cleanup job is going to be fun. Not.
Things need to dry up a bit, weather wise. It's not raining, but the fog seems permanent. It's cold (but not near freezing) and everything is dripping. Typical dreary fall weather, for us.
