Thanksgiving Hopes

A house fire of mold swept the interior of our Tiny House pumpkin-carving contest entry.
Just another sign that Halloween is long gone, friends, and Thanksgiving is upon us.

A turkey is nesting in my refrigerator, taking up way too much room.
My Middle Son asked for his favorite "McDonald's dressing," and I'll make it, 
just because it makes the house smell wonderful. 
What about a Thanksgiving stuffing scented candle instead of vanilla frosting? 
Chicken pot pie in a tall pillar candle instead of peach cobbler? 

I hope conversation this Thanksgiving will be filled with love—the 
kind of love that jumps over high fences of social and political issues 
for a hearty kiss and hug on the welcome mat.

I hope to enjoy simple, catching-up questions like, 
"How is your work?" 
"What do you put in these green beans?" 
"Did your gardens close well?"
and "What are you reading?"

May our conversations be seasoned with remember-when laughter 
and not spoiled by the angry rehash of 2016 headlines.

It may prove too much to hope for, but ... I plan to do my part. 
Will you? 

You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, 
which through us will produce thanksgiving to God.
2 Corinthians 9:11

More Thanksgiving thoughts here.


November Light

Are you noticing the difference in the light over the last couple of weeks?
There's been a definite shift.
Weak winter sunbeams give way to frigid blasts.  
Spring sunshine hints and winks.
Summer rays brutalize.
But November light ...
You know how airy and bright a room looks when you take the curtains and blinds down for washing?
 I think it's like that.
November sunshine brings new clarity—sharp edges and crisp patterns.
 I wonder ... 
have you noticed the difference?

James 1:17


Beautiful Blues and Flash Fiction

The Heavenly Blue Morning Glory is pulling out all the stops on our garden tepee
even if the sky is the bleakest of grays today. 

And in other news, 
Splickety Publishing Group featured my flash fiction piece titled, "Frowzy."
It's about a bad haircut—I wonder if you've ever had an experience quite like Doris's? 
Check it out here and let me know in the comment section if you can identify.


Collecting Seeds for Next Year's Garden

When I'm in the garden at this time of year, my jacket pocket is crammed with 
small zipper bags and a sharpie marker or two.
Find these clear plastic bags in the beading section of any craft store, Walmart, or Amazon.

Hardworking garden plants may have left the days of summer beauty behind, 
but now they're preparing another gift—their legacy—SEEDS. 
(cleome seeds)

You can save spring gardening dollars by gathering
 next year's seeds from your own flowers instead of buying them.
(sunflower seeds)

If you haven't cut down old plant stalks and canes yet, 
the flower heads should be bursting with seed by now. 

As you wander along through your spent flower beds, select only the 
healthiest-looking seeds for your packets. Don't keep anything discolored or 
misshapen—those won't bring the best plants next year.
(clematis seeds)

Take an extra second and label the packet with your permanent marker. 
You might think you'll remember what plant they're from, 
but we all know how life uses its eraser on our short-term memories.

Let the Thomas Jefferson in you climb out and collect a few experimental seeds. 
These hardy begonia seeds will probably not bear anything, but it's a possibility.

Let the plastic bags remain open for a couple days until the seeds have time to 
dry completely before you zip them closed. If you zip the packets closed too soon, 
you'll end up with a packet of mold for your springtime surprise.
Store the packets in a cool, dry place, away from the sunshine. 

Happy collecting! 
The garden dollars you used to spend on pricey seed packets can 
now be used to buy that Annabelle Hydrangea you've always wanted ... 

More advice and methods for collecting seeds here and here.