First Snow and Fall Suppers
We had our first snow on Thursday. It started falling in the late morning. By the time I went out for lunch, there were big fluffy, flakes floating in the air and settling on all the green that just days before had been basking in the warmth of the sun.
Hopefully, it will warm up again and all this snow will melt before Halloween. We barely got any Fall; Fall only officially started here at 1:18 pm CST on Tuesday, September 22. That was, what, less than three weeks ago?
I do not have pictures of this. I really should keep my camera with me. I envisioned many lovely compositions on Thursday and now we shall never see how they would have turned out. 
Here are a few pictures I took Friday morning on my walk to work…when it was minus 14 degrees Celsius with a wind chill. Brrr. (For you Americans that means the temperature was 6 degrees Fahrenheit.)
Here is a picture of birds (wrens? swallows?) foraging that morning in the park.
Don’t they look cold? Okay, maybe I’m projecting here. I was feeling very cold when I took that picture. It was about half-way through my walk. And I was worried the birds wouldn’t show up in the picture. (It’s a new camera – I’m still getting used to it.)
The next picture is of our Hollyhock plants here at work. They don’t look as cold. Perhaps, because they have such a warm snowy quilt covering them. 
In the world I grew up in it seemed that fall suppers were ubiquitous. They were everywhere. I recall that we could go to one, every weekend, from the start of school till Halloween. I’m sure, now, that this memory if false. Firstly, because, of course, Fall Suppers could not start until after the harvest was done. A Fall Supper is a community affair, everyone contributes something. Secondly, of course, they probably stopped at Thanksgiving (which, here in Canada, is this weekend) because by then everyone was tired of turkey.
Their name is debatable. Is it Fall Supper, because they are held in the Fall? Is it Fowl Supper, because the main meat is turkey? As long as it is not Foul Supper (a colleague jokes – LOL).
Traditionally, the small town I grew up in would have five separate suppers. Each church, Catholic, Lutheran, United, Pentecostal, would sponsor one and the school would also sponsor one. Now, we are down to one – only the school can still muster up enough workers and food. Coming from a small town, having left as so many of us did, I do wonder who will carry on these traditions. The church women, who use to do the cooking, are getting older. The churches, in small towns, are consolidating so that there are fewer churches. The children mostly leave or work outside the community.
This time of the year, I yearn for Fall Suppers. Weekends filled with turkey, community and camaraderie.
Here is a true bounty. There are groaning platters of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, jellied salads, vegetables and desserts. The tables glow with pies and cakes and home-made delicacies. I could go on forever praising this liturgy of food and love.
I want to be a small child again, running in and out of the hall. I want to be a young teen reading the names off the tombstones in the cemetery next to the hall. I want to be the one cooking and cleaning and gossiping in the kitchen. I was never the mother corralling the young-uns – this I did as an aunt. I will never be the crone sitting and reminiscing as I sip my tea; unless I move back.
I am glad it is Thanksgiving. I am happy to be going to my sister’s for turkey and gossip. I could do without the cold. I will end now, with a final picture from Friday. When I went to work in the morning this tree had all its leaves. When I came home it had shivered and shook all its leaves off. There they are blanketing the ground. Poor tree, it was not ready for the cold weather either.
Fall
Today is a perfect Fall day. Even though, it is a tad windy. It is a brisk breeze, shaking the leaves on the trees and creating small ripples on the river. One of those crisp, clear Fall days that I love. (I am not a Summer Spinster!)
It is perfect kite flying weather – if I were still the sort to fly kites. We used to, my BB & I, we used to go to the school yard and fly kites. I could never get mine to stay up. My YHS is a genius at getting a kite to stay up and to climb higher and higher. I wonder how she does that (I should send her an email and ask). My BBHB used to fly kites too and rocket ships; I wonder if he still does. If they still take the time to go fly a kite. Today, I cannot. Today, I am working.
Photographer: Ian Britton
Once upon a time I was an Outdoor girl, walking the small town paths and country roads, collecting Cattails, talking to the local horses, building tree houses, or off reading in the park gazebo.
I remember calm mornings admiring the stillness of the lake. I prefer to spend quiet, empty Fall days at the local lakes. It was so nice when I was finally able to drive myself where I wanted to go when I wanted to go there!
The local leaves are slowly starting to change colours, losing their vibrant green for paler yellows & oranges.
We hardly ever see vibrant reds here on the prairies. I miss Montreal most in the Fall. I miss all the bright maple leaves adorning Mount Royal.
This is the brightest leaves I have seen so far this Fall.
Except for the planted ones – I have no idea what plant this is but I love the colour.
Here is a further away view – perhaps that will help in the identification.
It is Fall. There are quick changes in the temperature. It can vary from 29 degrees Celsius down to 7 or 8 degrees overnight. The leaves shiver down to their roots! I am happy. Hopefully, Winter will not come until after November 1st.
Out After Dark
I went out, after supper, to the movies alone.
It was a dark night,
City dark not country dark…
The night is different in the city
Calmer, brighter,
Quiet.
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” – Sarah Williams, 1868.
Winter Ice
Last week, we had the perfect weather conditions to create ice; snow, rain, freezing temperatures and warming temperatures equal ice. Ugh.
Wednesday morning I walked to work like I was an old, old person. On the bridge I held on to the side catching myself from falling at least three times. We strangers were compiled to talk to each other warning of icy spots ahead and giving encouragement. It took me twice as long to cross the bridge.
When I was young (very young; 7, 8, 11) I would have skated down the bridge reveling in the ice. After all, it is downhill – it would have taken seconds instead of minutes. This was before I was constantly told that I had weak ankles. By the time I turned thirteen I was spraining my ankle (usually the right) every year until I was in my early twenties. I could walk across a perfectly straight road and sprain my ankle.
Now, the older I get, the more developed becomes my fear of falling. I’ve never broken a bone: I don’t want to start now.
Someone needs to invent a way to keep the sidewalks dry or a sidewalk surface that won’t ice up. They could become multi-multi billionaires.
I hate icy winters!
Where is my snow? Fluffy, snow sculpture snow!
Rain
It was raining this morning when I walked to work. A cold, late Fall, be thankful it’s not snow, type of rain. This is Pre-Winter rain. Cold, bleak… a rain that chills you to the bone. A foreboding rain just in time for election day! I voted anyway.
google image search
I have lived in Saskatchewan, on and off, for many decades. I have made a study of the rains.
There are blustry spring rains. They are Winnie the Pooh rains; rains that tear the umbrella out of your hands and turn it inside out. These are the rains that drench you to the bone and are quickly gone but leave your socks soaked and your spirit damp. These are the rains that push Piglet and Eyore off the page.
There are calm summer storms; rains that last all day but fall gently on the earth nourishing it. Soft rains where you don’t need an umbrella because you don’t mind getting wet. This is usually a warm rain. This is the rain I enjoy walking through.
There are wild summer storms that race across the prairies drenching and raging at the soil. I use to stand on my balcony, at the edge of the city, and watch this type of storm slowly make its way into the city. This could last all day. I would see a rain cloud form miles away and hours later it still would not be here. It was a leisurely rain. It was enjoying taking its time. You had hours to prepare to go out into the rain. However, you did not want to go out for the wild storm would rage at you and leave you feeling destitute.
As a child, one of my favorite activities after the rain, was to follow the streams across town pretending that they were rivers and that I was smaller than I actually was. I wanted to be small and big at the same time. I wanted to tell the rain’s story by reading the streams.
Tribbles and Bits
May 31, 2009 at 9:01 pm (Book Commentary, Life, Weather) (Children's Festival, Just After Sunset, Lilacs, Saskatoon, Stephen King, Summer, Sun, The Necklace)
I don’t hate everything about Summer just the heat. The Children’s Festival will start next week and starting tomorrow my walk to work will be festooned with ribbons. Not the whole walk, just the last part by the park. They will have bright ribbons hanging over the trees which are already a canopy of green but for one week will be joined by a rainbow of ribbons and hoards of children when I go out for lunch. This week makes me wish I still had little ones in my life to enjoy the festival with.
Today is Sunday. It was a beautiful day but I did not go out into it. Except to take out the garbage. I stayed inside reading, enjoying the sun like a cat. I finished two books and the Saturday paper. I did notice when the sun went behind the clouds but I was not tempted to leave my apartment. I’m a little tempted now but it means I’d have to put on a bra and I don’t want to!
What books did I finish, you ask?
One of the books was The Necklace. This book is the story about thirteen women who buy a 15,000.00 dollar necklace to share. The book details this social experiment and how sharing the necklace affects each woman. I couldn’t do it! For one, I couldn’t spend that sort of money on jewelry (over 1,000.00 dollars each) and two, I wouldn’t be able to share something like that. Either I would want to have it safe with me always or I would prefer not to have it. I do recommend the book. I found the concept to be a courageous one; I just couldn’t do it!
The other book was Stephen King’s latest book of short stories, Just After Sunset. I think Mr. King does short stories better than he does novels. The best short story in this collection was The Things They Left Behind which is about 9/11. Here is the synopsis from Stephen King’s website and here is what Wikipedia says about it. The glasses, below, play a pivotal role in the story.
I cried. Stephen King usually doesn’t make me cry.
So here you have it – some bits about my life but no tribbles (not this time anyway).
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