The calendar page has turned to October, the month we rumble over the hills reaping the harvest in our gigantic green machine. This ancient endeavor, simple in concept, complex in execution, can be stymied by the failure of one piece in the Rube Goldberg assemblage of belts and gears, chains and brakes, electrons and augers and weather, making one of the most rewarding of endeavors the most frustrating.
Hot cinnamon spice tea...Harney’s is the best..
Eating together….in or out….
Hoodie sweatshirts and smart-wool socks
Rain falling at bedtime
Good smelling soap
Coffeecake for breakfast
Going to church
Wearing cowboy boots
Reading books aloud
Sitting or swinging on the porch
Dairy Queen blizzard, Culver’s concrete, Dairy Diner Bulldog
Pictures or paintings or letters from the grandkids
Riding in the combine at night
Big bluestem and other fall grasses
Irish coffee or Eggnog
Dodge diesel pickups
Hugs from Aaron, Lizzie, Gabe, Abbie, Josh and Levi..separately or together.
Black eyed Susans
...and so many more....
‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free.
‘Tis a gift to come down where you want to be….