The Storm of '12

This comes later. 

But first. . . 

It started with rain.

Lots of rain. 

Puddles.

Mud.

The rain rain rain came down down down

In rushing, rising riv'lets,

'Til the river crept out of it's bed

And crept right into Piglet's!

All about Disney: http://www.musictory.com/music/Disney

It was a grey, blustery day 

that promised to turn into something more.

Kielbasa, potatoes, corn and black-eyed peas,

all in a chowder a'la Heather

Just right for a rainy night.

We had rain, other were getting pounded with snow.

Lots of snow. 

Just miles away. 

Literally, just 5 miles away. 

We waited. 

The lightning flashed,

and thunder crashed. 

The rain shifted into snow.

Heavy, wet snow. 

And this morning: 

Just enough snow to bring Bing Crosby out to croon about the upcoming holidays.

Oh, and Rosemary Clooney,

and The Andrew Sisters.

Aaron tried to get out the driveway with his car.

No snow tires.

Fail.

See him look longingly at Adrienne's car.

See Adrienne getting into her car in preparation for the great driveway escape.

Yes, she made it out. 

Aaron borrowed Scarlet, my trusty all-wheel drive. 

Score. 

Pretty cute, isn't she? 

And Heather ventured forth...

...and so did Ryan,

 for the 4th time. 

Jacket? 

"No mom, it's not cold."

Never mind the fingers that feel like ice cubes,

the runny nose and red cheeks, 

cause "it's not cold."

He is such a boy. 

 Aaah, I do like a good snowstorm. 

When I can be at home of course. 

I remember the Storm of '74. I was 4 years old.

I remember a tree falling on our swing set,

sleeping on the opened up couch with Mom and my 2 sisters,

no lights,

being cold,

Dad being stuck over at the farm on Bear Creek Road,

and thunder and lightning. 

 I even went out for a little while. 

Brrrrr.

           I want memories of this storm too. 

The Storm of '12.

Chowder and rolls from Springs Store,

Hot coffee and scones,

Rain, thunder and lightning 

Heavy snowflakes,

lights flickering,

Christmas music,

snow day...no school,

kids in the house,

lots of noise,

Amy painting, 

Heather watching The Big Valley,

Ryan playing with Cars,

Adrienne just being at home instead of college, 

laughing with Aaron at the table,

Leo home from work,

and pumpkins awaiting Thanksgiving 

while blanketed in snow. 

Keep safe,

stay warm,

Love,

Dianne

Storm Prep and Beyond

After work this morning I figured I had better stop at Wal-Mart and get some necessities.
You know, in preparation for the Sandy Storm Event Of The Century.
The "necessities" included (not necessarily in order of importance):
     *toilet paper
     *cat food
     *4 boxes of Pumpkin Pie PopTarts (yes, that would be 4 box
     *Eggs, milk and cream cheese (in case I feel like baking) (Actually, it is more like, if Heather does)
     *coffee creamer of a variety of flavors
     *yogurt
     *ham and kielbasa and bread
     *cheese crackers (shaped like penguins and bunnies)
     *bananas, lettuce and peppers
     *bottled water (which was the only thing the store was running low on)

What does this say about me?
     -I am not organized enough to have a menu planned out.
     -I like to wait until the last minute.
     -I prefer candles over flashlights.
     -I believe that coffee creamer is a food group.
     -So is yogurt.
     -A secret joy of mine is eating a PopTart.
     -In my book, Rain + Cold Weather + Sandy Hurricane = Soup for Supper
     -I don't like our tap water to just drink.
     -I complain about the cats, but hey, I do care about them.

I like seeing what other people have in their carts too, like scented pinecones. Now that seems like an important item at a time such as this. They smelled good though.

When I went into the store, the rain was coming down, gentle and deceiving. Maybe, just maybe, the forecast is wrong...

When I came back out, the raindrops were fatter and wetter, hitting my face like they meant business. Okay, maybe the weather guys are on to something...

I drove home and the temperature went from 45 degrees to 38 degrees. So, maybe we'll get a little bit of something...

Rain, just rain all afternoon, but still not too bad. Maybe we'll luck out with just rain. Cancellations for schools already for tomorrow? Nah, not believing it....

I'm checking Facebook and seeing pictures with snow, just miles south of where we are. Still, just rain here and I am a little disappointed...

Five minutes ago, out first wet, heavy flakes fell from the gray, waterlogged clouds. Ryan is jubilant. I will admit that I find it a little exciting too. I am thankful though that we are not where the worst of the storm is as it pummels the coast. Prayers are lifted on behalf of those who are dealing with flooding, high winds and more.

I don't know how the next few days will play out. Storm or no storm, that's true for every day.
I just need to take it in stride, be prepared the best that I can be, and ride it out.

I hope I won't need the rowboat; it is out on the pond filling with rain water.

Tonight, the plan is (not necessarily in order of importance):
     *Eat soup.
     *Be with my family.
     *Stay warm.
     *Wear fuzzy PJ's
     *Drink a hot drink.
     *Count my blessings.

Stay safe!
Love,
Dianne





   

Beware, the Yuccky Storm

While it may appear that I am dancing in the yard,

celebrating what may be the calm before "THE STORM",

I am not. 

I am playing volleyball with Ryan across the clothesline.

Really.

Even though you can't see him in this picture. 

A random afternoon, spur of the moment, hit the volleyball around kind of a moment. 

See, there he is.

Obviously, neither of us knows how to keep the ball up.

Now, truly in preparation for "THE STORM"

I thought I'd work outside for a little while today. 

Forget about shopping for batteries, flashlights, groceries, etc, cause I have plants to plant. 

You see, I have all these yucca plants someone gave me, 

like a month or so ago...

If I didn't plant some today, it wasn't going to happen. 

So I dug up a patch by the barn. 

This handsome rooster decided to help

by strutting about proudly,

shaking his head,

trying to look important. 

Honestly, he wasn't much help. 

But then this even more handsome gentleman came along.

He was very helpful.

Especially since I was trying to dig up a piece of the foundation. 

Oops. 

He said the barn wouldn't fall over if it was missing. 

Especially since it wasn't even attached. 

And then voila (I think that is an wonderful word):

Yucca Habitat

I think it looks Yuccky. 

Ha ha. 

Actually, I like it. 

If I didn't know better, I'd say it was April or May 

and Summer was just around the corner. 

Hey, I can dream, can't it? 

Besides, "THE STORM" of the century hasn't arrived yet. 

Yet. 

Maybe I should go check my flashlights now. 

Love,

Dianne

One mouse, One Fat Groundhog and 3 Cats

(Sung to the tune of "Three Blind Mice")

One dead mouse

One dead mouse

See how he sits

See how he sits

Perched upon the lady's bra

In the closet over by the wall

He died of natural causes

One dead mouse 

One dead mouse. 

And that would be how my morning started. Imagine standing in the closet doorway, looking down to your left and realizing a very alive looking mouse is perched on one of your unmentionables. It was so tiny and cute that I didn't even scream. I just moved away slowly, very slowly, and looked for something to catch it in. I did wonder why it didn't scurry away but thought it was just scared.

As it turns out, he was petrified. Literally. At least he still smelled fresh. 

I found a slipper and when I thought he would scamper into it, thinking that the soft grey fuzziness of the slipper would look like home, the little fella just rolled stiffly into it. It made me a little sad. He was so tiny. And cute. For a mouse. 

Then, later today...

One fat groundhog

One fat groundhog

See how he eats 

See how he eats

All the lovely perennials 

Nibbled right down to the very earth

The farmers' wife is getting annoyed at 

One fat groundhog

One fat groundhog.

Until....Amy took aim with a 22 Rifle and the fat groundhog has nibbled his last. 

The best part though? Seeing Aaron outside in his red bathrobe with the little black Scottie dogs all over it, helping Amy out. What a sight to drive in the driveway and see. 

I took a picture on my phone, thought about posting it, but figured someone with a red bathrobe would get me back. I wouldn't know when, I wouldn't know how, but he would find a way. Of course, if I ever see you on the street and I have my phone...

Two rodents in one day. Seriously? What is it about my place that they all like? And what are my cats doing? Inviting them for a play date? 

Three Gray Cats

Three Gray Cats

See how they play 

See how they play

They have a tea party

With groundhogs and mice

Including catmint and other spice

They were all having the time of their lives

Three Gray Cats

Three Gray Cats.

And on that note...

Love,

Dianne

P.S. If you were looking for a point, or some deep hidden meaning in all this, you may as well know that it is probably not going to happen. 

P.S. Just saying. 

October Poem...Yep that's a warning.

We headed for Meyersdale,

 the three of us did:

Leo,

Ryan, 

and me 

to ride on the bike trail. 

For a Sunday afternoon ride

on this breezy Autumn day

was just what the doctor ordered 

to chase away the blues. 

The tires were checked,

the seats were adjusted,

and soon we were off; 

there was no time to lose. 

We took off in a hurry,

but soon settled in; 

our stride was just right 

and this race we would win. 

Until...

 Ryan wiped out

and bumped his wee chin. 

Leo then had to show him 

the way it was done. 

He popped a wheelie 

and you know it was fun, 

but he wiped out too,

and as he lay on the road, 

his wife, how she laughed

at her sweet loved one. 

After the wheelie, they took off again, 

down the trail, past the rocks

to a bridge they would cross.

'

They rode on then at a leisurely pace

Occasionally stopping to check out the place.

Or in the case of Dianne, 

she just checked out her man. 

The scenery did not get any better than that. 

I know, handsome isn't he?
And he's mine, all mine.
Blessed. 

 But like all good things,

the ride came to an end

when Ryan got tired 

of what might be around the next bend. 

So we turned around 

and headed home 

and what should await us as we drove down the lane? 

A beautiful sight 

that made us exclaim. 

We are so thankful

and blessed beyond measure

For this country we live in  

is surely a treasure. 

 And that is the end,

the last of my rhyme. 

Until I get inspired  

the very next time. 

Love,

Dianne

The Wrong Side of the Bed is Not Where It Ends

To wake up on the wrong side of the bed is:
     1.) To wake up with a headache and a kink in your neck.
     2.) To wake up much later than you had hoped to, thus feeling like a day is wasted.
     3.) To search the cupboard in vain for something that appeals to you for breakfast.
          Actually, it would be brunch. Remember, you woke up late?
     4.) A do-to list that when unrolled, stretches across the kitchen floor.
     5.) Coffee that gets cold before you drink all of it.
     6.) Going downstairs and finding your girls watching Tia and Tamara on their reality show.
     7.) Staying focused on the negative. And why not? I am justified, right?

Whoa, hold it, stop, cease and desist.
Who do I think I am?
Am I really justified in treating everyone badly just because I rolled out of bed wrong this morning?
Poor Leo.
He wished me a cheery "Good Morning!"
I responded with a mumbled, "The jury is still out on that one." I think I may have snarled too.
He left the house soon thereafter and has not poked his head back in since. I think I scared him.

I continued the mumbling, complaining rant under my breath as I filled the sink with water to do the dishes. "I didn't even eat here yesterday. These aren't my dishes." Snarl, growl. Was that an angry tear mingling in the dishwater?The mood continued to sour, much like the milk left in one of the guy's lunch boxes. Bleech.

Soon, the girls ventured out to the kitchen. A little warily I might add. I was sweeping up enough dirt to cover a forest floor when Amy took over the dishes and Heather offered to make me eggs. Ryan, not yet in tune to a mother's bad mood, was clueless. Through my black fog of attitude, I saw a glimmer of light. Somewhere in my heart, in my mind, I knew I needed to get a grip. I needed to turn this ship around and head back to port before I got stuck in a hurricane that would surely sink me and pull my family down too.

So, with a little forced effort, I changed my tone in my voice. I tried to find something positive to say. I poured my coffee. Amazing how the storm clouds began to lift at that point and hey, was that a ray of light? The warmth from that one ray, from one kind word...amazing. That's all I can say.

I may have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, but I don't have to stay there. I still have hours left in this day. The first hour will not dictate the rest of my day! I won't let it. So there.

My today resolution: When I am tempted to let a bad attitude sink my ship, I will stand tall, look to God, take the wheel, say a resounding "Aaaarrrrgggghhh" in my best pirate voice, and sail right on through. 

With God's help, because in my own strength I am incredibly weak, I can do this.

Hebrews 4:16 "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

Love,
Dianne

A Hairy Situation

I got a haircut the other day. Last October, I got a perm which I have loved, but decided to let it grow out just because they are kind of expensive and I somehow feel a little guilty spending so much on myself. For hair.

So over the past year as my hair has grown, I have just gotten an occasional trim which always brought it back to life and I'd go bouncing along, happy. Until this haircut, that is. It's not that the woman did a bad job cutting it, it's just that the curl is about gone and my hair is back to boring. At least, I think it is boring. I don't quite know what to do with it or my bangs or lack thereof.

I saw a 93 year old woman today and I want her hair. It was short and sassy, cute but still could be business-like when needed. She. Has. Cool. Hair. What does this say about me? I want 93-year old hair?

I actually have debated getting my hair cut really short, but my hair doesn't grow super fast. A niece told me that prenatal vitamins work. I told her that maybe, just maybe, it was the pregnancy, not the vitamins that do the trick. I am not planning to try this plan anytime soon. Or later.

"So, why did you decide to have Baby #6?"

"Oh, you know, so I can have lustrous. luxurious hair."

"Okay....?"

Okay, and that's that. 

Why is it that we place so much of how we feel on how we look? Whether or not we are having a good or bad hair day? Our hair is a part of our identity, a reflection of how we see ourselves on the inside. For years, I never had my hair cut. This was because of growing up Mennonite and the following of 
1st Corinthians 11.  I also wore a prayer covering or veil for many years, again following what the church taught about 1st Cor 11. So what changed for me? 

When we lived in Louisville KY doing mission work, we belonged to the Mennonite church there. So many amazing, strong Christian women attended there and to my astonishment, most had shorter hair and wore no prayer covering. I started to feel like so much emphasis had been placed on that, instead of the heart, that it was becoming a legalistic thing, like eating clean vs. unclean meat, or circumcision vs. uncircumcision. I wanted people to see me as different because of my faith, not my outward markings, and soon, I stopped wearing the covering at home, and then eventually, church. Leo and I talked much about it at the time and if he would have wanted me to continue wearing it, I would have, to honor him as leader in our home. As it was, we were in agreement. 

As for cutting my hair, that came later. As for cutting it really short and sassy and cute? I think I am just not ready for that yet. 

I looked up various teachings on 1st Corinthians 11 to see if I could find a clear-cut answer to the right or wrong in hair (long vs. short) and prayer coverings (to wear or not to wear) and I came out with a mixed bag of answers. Yes. No. Maybe. Depends. Perhaps. If. 

You get the idea, if not the answer. So, I am interested in what you all think. Leave a comment. Send me a note. Facebook a response. Talk to me in person. Tell me what you think, I'd like to know.

Love,
Dianne

PS: As for hairy legs, that's another topic altogether. United we shave, divided we prickle. 
PS 2: Sorry, just couldn't help myself there. 

Sharing the Yoke is Not a Joke

I am tired.
Overwhelmed.
Under-energized.
I am like the bunny whose batteries died.
My plate is full and I have lost my silverware.
Between jobs, mandatory on-call, and family, I am stretched.
Sometimes I think I can't do it anymore. "It". Whatever "it" is.
And then, just when I think I am going to snap like a rubber band wrapped around one time too many, I find strength to keep on moving. Too keep getting through the moment, the day.

Today, I am looking at my week and wondering how to make it work. I need to do visits. I need to pick up on-call on the days I was planning to do visits. A child doesn't feel well this evening. I am looking at the big picture and I don't know where to make myself fit so that I stay afloat. Then, I tackle one job, one note that needs written, one paper that needs filled out.

One thing at a time.

I know I am a woman, but sometimes multitasking is just too much. I may have 3 hands and eyes in the back of my head, but I can still only do so much. I am still just me, human as can be.

The expectations of what I am needed to do, what I am feeling obligated to do, are threatening to push me under. They weight of it is heavy. But wait, that makes me think of something.


Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Picture a team of horses, or oxen, yoked together. They have to work together and in doing so, the work becomes easier. What do they say, "Two heads are better than one?" I would imagine that two of anything working together makes any job better. So what does that verse mean to me? Today?

I am feeling overwhelmed and stressed. I need to accept that I can only do what I can do. No more, no less. I can choose to go about my day running here and there trying to get "it" all done. Alone. Or I can ask for help from my family and friends. Or I can pray, seeking the guidance from God on how I should structure my week. I can yoke myself to Him; He wants to carry some of the burden for me. 

That might sound funny to some people; like, does God really care about my week and what I do?  Yes, I believe He does. Too many times have I been in the right place, at the right time with the right people to say that it was just circumstance. He cares about my life, busy or not. He can help me make decisions  by changing my attitude or giving me that feeling of peace, or sometimes unrest, that comes from Him. I don't know really how to explain it, it just is that way. 

I am off to take Heather to dance and I have an hour to wait while she practices. I could be stressed out by that, thinking of what else I could be doing, but you know something, I am not. This hour of waiting is a gift, a chance to catch up on some reading.

See, a choice. An attitude. A sharing of my yoke. No joke.

Love,
Dianne, the Energizer Mum, recharged.

A Simple Question Deserves A Story Answer

I asked my family one question: "What should I write about tonight?"

This is what I got: 

Leo: Volleyball.

Adrienne: The faithfulness of God. More faith in sun rising than in God coming through. 

Aaron: Traditionalist versus modernism. Or...the effect of music on emotions. 

Amy: Peas. Just peas.

Heather: I don't know. I don't know. Umm, hunting season. 

Ryan: A smoothie shake.

Simple question. Simple answers. Well, except for Aaron. And Adrienne. 

What do I do with such a variety of responses? 

What else? Write a story. 

Once upon a time, a very short time ago, there was a family of mice. They lived in the Maust pantry and thought they were quite sneaky at gathering tidbits of pastries, granola bars, dried pasta, and sugar. The large bag of dried peas however, they left that one alone. After all, if the human children did not eat peas, the mice children weren't going to either. Maybe it was a trap and they were poison. Certainly the faces that the human children made when presented with peas for supper would indicate just that. 

The mice children, especially Luigi and Amos,  loved to live in the pantry. At night, they would have races among the shelves, dodging cans, bags, boxes and various sized plastic containers. Those containers were fun to climb on, but so frustrating too. Inside of each container was unreachable food. Just this week, the lady of the house had purchased Cheez-its, and now, there they were, stashed where no mouse could even get just a teensy tiny nibble. 

Wootsie, the eldest of the mice children, would caution the two youngest, RyRy and Heder, to be careful not to get hurt, or to eat too much, or not to leave a mess in the pantry. She was the cautious one, always organized and planning her next trip to the pantry. She knew that one day, just as surely as the sun rises each morning, that one of them would get caught. Why, she would bet her toenail clipping collection on it. 

That evening, as the human parents were at a volleyball game watching their girls win, the Mama and Papa mouse watched from the shelf of DVD's on one wall of the pantry as their children began their night activities. Wootsie carefully gathered some scraps of yarn, leftover from a school project, to knit a scarf. Fur would only goes so far when the cold winds began. She knew the winds and snow would come, they always did. 

Luigi hummed a song he'd heard the human young man playing on his keyboard. It had been a mournful tune and now Luigi was feeling sad and a little grumpy. He liked it better when the music coming from the piano was lilting and happy, Celtic in nature. That made him happy, unlike the screamo music which made him aggressive and macho mousie. Yes, he decided, the music does affect his emotions. 

Amos just sat, looking at the peas. She was tempted to try them. Her parents ate them after all and look how nice and healthy they both were. Were they just bad for the children? Peas, they were just peas. Right?

Heder looked nervously at the mouse trap as she went the long way around to the bag of popcorn. The trap made her think of hunting season and she wondered if there was a season for (gulp) mice. To take her mind off of the nasty thought, she tried a pirouettte and a plie, binding first her front legs then her back, then all four together. 

RyRy scampered up a tower of canned pineapple, mandarin oranges and tropical fruit. A smoothie, a nice fruit smoothie is what he was hungry for. Why was Amos even wasting her time pondering peas? And what on earth was Heder doing? Mama told her to use the restroom before coming out into the open of the pantry. 

Papa and Mama continued to watch their children, all so different in their approaches to life. They knew Wootsie sometimes struggled with trusting God to be there for her, taking care of her needs and sometimes even just her wants and wishes, but just as sure as the sun rises each day, He was just as faithful. Just look at the yarn that was provided for her new scarf. Those scraps weren't there yesterday, and now, just when she needed them, there they were. And Luigi, sweet Luigi and his love for music and theology. Just today he was discussing the differences between traditionalism and modernism. Papa and Mama smiled and nodded at each other; neither really knew what he was talking about, but they sure were proud. Amos just might be the first to be brave enough to try the peas. Cautious and yet curious enough to step out in faith after checking with God and sometimes, her parents. Heder, such a joy to watch! Even when fearful, she had faith and often expressed herself with dance, her own form of praise to the God she loved. Last, but not least, was Little RyRy, also curious but with a zest for life and a million questions. 

Mama smiled and twitched her whiskers. She was blessed. 

The End :) 

Love,

Dianne

24 years...Rewriting the vows

Twenty-four years ago, I stood with my husband-to-be before a crowd of family and friends pledging my love to him as we exchanged our vows.

I, Dianne Lynette Bender, in the presence of God and these witnesses take you, Leonard Wynn Maust to be my wedded husband. 
I said "I do" then and I still "do" today.
I will love and cherish you, 
Love hasn't always been easy and I had a lot of growing to do to learn what love really is, but I had a great teacher in you. 
care for and sustain you in health and sickness,
I hope I've cared for you in making our various houses into homes for you to come to at the end of the day. We have been blessed with health, you and I and I hope that if the day comes when we aren't, that I will be true to the words I spoke that day. 
 and in prosperity and adversity. 
Ah yes, we have had our fair share of adversity but it has always been tempered with splashes of prosperity, not just with finances, but with so many aspects of our lives. 
I will share with you the joys and sorrows of life, 
Somehow, with you by my side, even the sorrows are life are bearable and you help me see joy once again. 
exercise kindness, patience and forbearance toward you as becometh a faithful Christian wife, 
Okay, still working on these...
and forsaking all others, keep myself only to you as long as we both shall live. 
This part is the easy one. I love you for who you are, just as God created you. You are my man. 

Leo and I did not write our vows to each other for our wedding day. We used a version used by many others before us. Today, if I were to write my vows, it would probably go like this:

I, Dianne Lynette Maust, having loved God first, is so thankful that He saw fit to bring Leo into my life. Having me fall in love at the age of 16 was in His plan from Day 1 of my life and there is no other man that I want to spend my life with. I do gladly take Leo to be my husband.

I do love and cherish you, even on those days that I forget to say so, or my frown says otherwise. One reason I love you is how, when I want to smile the very least, you get me too. I just can't help myself. I cherish you because of your strong moral character that mixes with your sense of humor and shows itself in everything you do. 

I love making a home with you, a place where we can relax, laugh, dance, or cry. Being able to curl up next to you at the end of the day is my favorite part. As a nurse, I know I can take care of you in sickness or health, but I am so thankful it has been mostly health. (You aren't a very good patient, you know, but I would try.)

We may not be loaded with money, and we will probably never be out of debt, but we are rich in the ways that count. Our family, our children are worth more than anything Fort Knox could ever hope to hold. Even if we had to leave our farm and possessions behind, I know wherever we are, it will be together, and it would be okay.  

You have stood by me through some of my darkest nights and loneliest days. Depression was a pit threatening to swallow me whole, but you wouldn't let go. You have shared my sorrows, but you have brought me many joys. I want to do the same for you.

Kindness, patience, forbearance (what is that anyhow?). . . not always what I am good at by any means, but I will try. With God's help, I want to be a blessing to you in whatever you need, whenever you need it. I think though, that I will have days that I will fail, just as you will. It is at those time that I offer forgiveness and grace to you as a gift, because they were also freely given to me. 

I love you, shorter, blond and handsome. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, dancing in the kitchen, holding hands when we walk, kissing on the street, laughing at jokes only we understand, saying nothing but yet understanding each other completely. 

You, Leo are my one and only.

Til death do us part, and even then, only for a time.

Love,
Dianne

P.S. I came home to a bunch of helium balloons, all with the inscription " I Love U" penned by Leo. 
All except one balloon which read " He who finds a wife finds a Good thing."

Sigh. 

Be still my beating heart. :)

Cruising Through October

October Afternoons...

This poor tree is completely bald already. 

Cruising down Rt 135 this morning, I was amazed by the countryside streaming by as I traveled from one home visit to another. The reds, the oranges, the yellows...they all seemed even more vibrant against the backdrop of gray clouds that threatened to blanket the mountain tops. Some of the trees were beginning to look like balding men, a little thin on the top but with plenty left around the bottom and sufficient in the middle.  I liked when a truck would fly by, stirring up enough of a breeze that I got showered in a litter of leaves as the trees shook angry fists at the trucker for disturbing their peace.

Taken along the truck runaway ramp. Yes, I drove right by there. No, I did not drive onto the runaway ramp to take a picture; I found this on the good ole' Internet. 

 The mountain ridges seemed layered one in front of another with a randomness that made sense.

Backbone Mountain (elevation 3,684 ft at it's highest point) is along my route and it is stunning. I would have taken pictures, but didn't have any camera but for my cell phone and it's not all that great, so I found some on-line. Not Autumn pictures, but at least you can see the mountains.

I think we live in a beautiful part of the country. Our mountains may not be the Rockies, the Swiss Alps, or the Andes Mountains, but they are our mountains.

I continued my drive, seeing many signs warning of the steep grade yet to come, and crisscrossed numerous railways before passing Westvaco (or Luke Paper Mill as I always knew it). This is an immense factory with an industrial presence that is daunting, yet fascinating. Smoke and steam billows from a myriad of smokestacks, filling the air with the smell of cabbage cooking. Some people think it smells like stinky feet, but I rather like it. I want to have mashed potatoes and smoked sausage every time I visit there.

After my visit is complete, I head home, on out to I-68, Grantsville and then Springs. Sometimes I cut across another series of winding roads, some with rocks overhanging the roadway, but not today. Today, I want to get home.

The fire was started in the furnace over the weekend and it is cozy in my house. Some of my hot-blooded children (and my husband!) think it's too warm, but I like it. I am sitting here now listening to the silence, broken only by the clock marking the time. I would have liked to have stayed curled up here all day, but I had a job to do.

And, you know, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed my work and I enjoyed the scenery. October is upon us, full steam ahead. And in case you had any doubts...

Pine needles cover the ground.
Not nearly as much fun to jump in as a pile of leaves!

These always remind me of Indian feathers.

Coal for the furnace; yes, it's that time. 

Is this a tree comb-over?

Leaves, like boats, having their own kind of Regatta. 

Love,

Dianne